Soulless
by Creeping Nyarlathotep
Summary: How does one begin to understand that which defies traditional definition? There were many things that could be said about the Altmer woman who came into Whiterun. Kodlack sees something great in her yet Vilkas sees little more than a walking chaos. Regardless, Vilkas can't keep away from her. His intrigue forces him to find some common ground even at the cost of his dignity.
1. Alchemist

I do hope that you all enjoy this first chapter to my new Skyrim Fanfiction.

I would like to make a disclaimer that if the writing makes me come off as a kind of charlatan that is not my intention. I am plying my hand at a writing style that I have never tried before.

I hope you all enjoy this first chapter I will update when I can. Cheers!

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In the fourth Era, the petulance of man and merkind, regardless of how grand or petty it was, seemed to be almost infinite. There was the ever waging war between the Empire and the Stormcloaks, that (thankfully enough) The Companions didn't tire themselves with; but much in Vilkas's opinion the reasons behind the war, if someone were to ask him, tipped the scale of petulance on the side of the latter. He wasn't without beliefs and, one would be hard pressed to find a single person no matter their origins without. But, to claim the reasons behind the war were objectively justified would be absurd. Was Tiber Septim a great man? By all accounts of his exploits, no matter how questionable, Vilkas could easily agree and people were in the right to remember him for them. But, the question of his divinity was, to him at least, a matter for the philosophers and not that for minds of Tamriel's governing bodies.

It was these sort of topics that people discussed that annoyed Vilkas to great lengths. Even now, as he sat at the table in Jorrvaskr in front the fire pit that burned brightly while he and his fellow Companions ate breakfast at their leisure, he had old Vignar Gray-Mane to thank for his inability to enjoy his breakfast due to his intolerable ramblings of the unjust acts of the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. "It isn't right!" Old Vignar exclaimed with great passion. "We have the right to believe in our gods in any way we see fit. Who are those damned elves to say who we can and cannot worship!" Vilkas held his tankard in a tight grip and his eyes closed trying to yield his rising irritation as his jaw clenched and temples flared.

There was a prolonged sense of envy that had long planted itself in Vilkas towards his brother. Farkas had a more agreeable temperament than he; not by a large margin by any means; but, agreeable to the point where he was more capable of tolerating such aggravating twaddle without obvious signs. Vilkas had attempted at one time to profit from his brother's example but the Gods seemed to have cursed him with a brain that refused to listen to his own wishes. It was the same even when they were children to which did not exactly earn Vilkas very many friends when he and his brother were growing up but he neither had the mind to harbor any guilt for it.

He was always perceived as a strong willed soul with an air of intuition. While flattering as it may have been, he always found it as a childish way to get away with saying that he was stubborn. He couldn't place his finger on as to why people, fellow Nords even, would comment about it. Stubbornness was a common Nordic trait. The Stormcloaks being the primmest of all the examples. But, for his fellow Companions to say it was off putting. Aela was stubborn, as was Farkas and Njada. Even Athis, a dark elf, was stubborn. Vilkas didn't meditate on the question for too long – there was no point, he felt. And, he couldn't spend too much time scrolling through his thoughts when to many petty happenings surrounded him.

"I would dare any elf to challenge my beliefs. I'd soon put them down for the trouble." Exclaimed Vignar, once again cutting through Vilkas's thoughts.

Vilkas stood from the table with his plate – the contents thereof being of cooked horker meat and sweet roll – along with his tankard and took to sitting outside in the back for the remainder of his meal. It wasn't entirely so he could face the morning with peace but mostly it was for Vignar's sake that Vilkas left before he lost whatever sense he had left.

There were several reasons as to why The Companions didn't dally into politics. They neither had the time nor patience to care. To Vilkas especially he never saw a difference in the ultimate objective of any war ever waged. In the end, war was simply a demonstration of tact to garner power as the end result.

When Vilkas stepped outside he felt the air was cool as it was dry much like the table he was sitting at. The table creaked when he sat and the legs shifted under his weight. Thin sheets of ice hung from the edges of the table and in between the crevices which made the surface of the table slick and almost completely smooth save for a few bumps. He was content to eat in the cold silence of the morning. Upon contemplating on which he would prefer, he considered the empty training yard to be a blessing. It was away from the noisy hustle of main hall of Jorrvaskr as his Shield-Siblings crowded around each other and bantered to one another. He was most irritable in the youngest hours of the day before breakfast. Between then and when breakfast was finished was a test to see who would be the first to try his patience.

What made the pleasurable experience of eating outdoors better was that Whiterun was a fairly quiet city. Its people would be just now preparing for the day to be as they dressed themselves and prepared their own breakfasts so they could go about their day to day with relative ease. Vilkas cut into his food and chewed as he thought about what living in that great cesspool of a city that Solitude was like. He had been there enough times to know that having a quiet moment to oneself was a practice in the chimerical.

As he ate, Vilkas could only think about what the day would bring and he was eager to get to work. He couldn't stand to go to long without. Not that he had a problem with downtime, but he could hardly distinguish the two. He enjoyed what he did, providing that the coin that their clients offered was preferable to their regular rates. Vilkas was a warrior as he was trained to be ever since he and his brother were boys. Fighting was his life and his future. He held true to what the Companions believed in and he was honorable, which was the most important part of the job. No matter who was fighting; whether it was low-life bandits or a fearsome predator of the wild and dense forests of Skyrim's wooded regions; he always made sure that he held the honor of Companions along with him.

"Is the heat of Jorrvaskr to much for you this morning?" Kodlak Whitemane spoke with the usual good natured and relaxed tone that unknowing to itself, had the ability to sooth even the most heated of tempers. Kodlak never acknowledged if this was a conscience effort. Vilkas supposed it didn't really matter. What mattered is the effect that Kodlak's words had on them all. One word could give them courage, and a few minutes of speaking with the old warrior could grant you wisdom that only he could bestow. Kodlak was an inspiration to them all and he lead them all with the same honor that they so often' spoke of.

Kodlak sat on the side of the table opposite Vilkas and Vilkas responded with, "I needed to escape from Vignar," in a sardonic tone as he looked out passed the stone wall to the dark blue, morning sky of the winter where the wind was chilly and clouds were black. The kind of weather that Nords were naturally accustomed too. But, onto the other races that called Skyrim their home, it was the time of year that kept them indoors in the comforting touch of a fires warmth, under cozy candle light where they would sit with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders and a warm beverage to further deepen their comfort.

"I see." Kodlack responded knowingly. "I understand your querulousness. We aren't the type for likes of politics and the Gray-Manes are a passionate bunch, however I did not see any of our Shield-Siblings taking part in the discussion and nor did I witness any of them leave as you did." Vilkas chewed the remains of his breakfast with lethargic slowness as he was catching a sudden intimation from his Harbinger. "So I would urge you steal yourself. You may find that its easier than you seem to believe."

"I highly doubt that I could." Vilkas retorted.

Kodlak gave a wry chuckle and scratched at the table with his index finger. His long, white beard gave a slight flutter as the wind made it passed the wall of the courtyard and he looked up at the mountain range, instantly taken in by its beauty. He always liked to peer up at the Throat of the World that stood sentinel with the sharp, jagged peaks of its summit scratching against the sky as the monastery of High Hrothgar peered down, silhouetted behind the clouds like an apparition from an obscure and forgotten past.

"You know, I brought in a new member yesterday." Kodlak uttered candidly. "Not the typical sort that we normally get around here. The Jarl's court wizard asked me to take a look at her. He seemed damned eager to be rid of her. She's been going to and from Dragonsreach for weeks; sometimes staying all throughout the night if permitted."

"Doesn't sound like Companion material." Vilkas commented dryly.

"Yes. She's more of a scholar than a fighter – an enthusiast in alchemy and arcane enchantments, and related fields. Why, when I went to see her - she was hunched over Farengar's alchemy table, rapidly mumbling some incoherencies to herself like some sort of madman. I don't know what she was doing, but it looked like delicate work. I didn't think too much of her when I first came upon her but after a I had a chance to sit down and speak with her I could sense a certain strength of spirit. She needn't tell more than what she did but what she shared was enough to convince me that she would do fine here. Now, fitting in however is another matter entirely."

"Why?" Vilkas raised an intrigued brow.

"You haven't met her yet. It would be easier for you to see for yourself than it would be for me to explain why. All I will say is that she has a kind of walk and talk that we don't see around here." Vilkas crossed his arms over his chest and tried to imagine what kind of person Kodlak was describing to him. The Companions were no strangers to taking in foreigners. People from all walks of life, from many different lands have sought them out. Certainly this woman could not be anything more than something they had already seen in another. Kodlak may just be exaggerating. "You will see your fill of her when she comes by later. And, Vilkas," Kodlak's tone became more serious and he immediately attained Vilkas's full attention. "I urge you to guard yourself around her. I don't imagine you will care for her being a Companion."

"Does this worry you?"

Kodlak leaned forward on the table and rubbed his face then moved to stroke his beard. "Not to any extent. You take your duties very seriously as do the rest of us. As for our new member – well, she is a woman of studious and eclectic habits and I do not yet know how everyone will adjust to her. So I ask that you attempt to practice some patience. It may be while before anyone is used to her."

Vilkas looked hard at his Harbinger and for a few seconds both were quiet in a contemplative pause. "Kodlak, with all due respect – you're being awfully delicate about the matter. Why not just explain her plainly? Why the discretion?"

"It is not easy to explain the ineffable, son." Kodlak replied sincerely. "Even I have a hard time to put into words what to say of her. She's like any other person in a way. She has her strengths and her faults. But, I am confident that she will make a very fine addition to Jorrvaskr. And, last I checked we have some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

Vilkas sighed in frustration at Kodlak. He did not like being kept in the dark in these matters. For whatever reason Kodlak was keeping a lot to himself which Vilkas found odd and made him feel somewhat uneasy. He took a deep breath and took a drink from his tankard. He wiped his lips then rubbed his hand over his face before clasping his hands together, rubbing them against one another as he thought.

"I suppose," Vilkas spoke slowly, "That if you feel that she is right for us – than who are we to disagree. Should she prove otherwise we will handle it accordingly. Just as we have always done." When Vilkas finished speaking he had a secondary statement hiding in between the context of his words. Kodlak understood it as, "Do not let this end up like Uthgerd." It was an unfortunate accident what happened with Uthgerd and one that Kodlack knew could have been prevented. It was such an awful waste that they withdrew her from Jorrvaskr for she was an excellent warrior but such a waste it was for the boy's life that she had inevitably and unnecessarily taken.

"Worry not, lad. I feel great things may come of this. You just wait." Kodlak finished confidently.

Once breakfast was over, Vilkas had gone about his day in practically normal fashion. He prepped himself for any jobs that may venture his way. Dressing himself in the standard armor that he, Kodlak and Skjor often wore that bore homage to the majestic wolf. It was a heavy yet comfortable amalgamation of forged steel, leather and fur that hardly required time to get used too. It was an excellent set to be worn by a warrior of considerable mettle and reputation for it was easily recognizable. He squeezed his hands into fists as he fitted his gloves and strapped the buckles. He fastened his sword that sat inside its sheath around his waist and took a deep breath. Feeling ready now that he was dressed.

When Vilkas exited his room, his brother was just shutting the door to his own bedroom across the hall. Though they were identical twins; it was never a challenge of observation to tell them apart. Farkas was a mountain of a Nord that was sparing in his voice but not so much in his wide-eyed glares. His broad shoulders and overbearing height could render the fieriest of heads to feel weak at the knees and cause them to buckle under their weight and his deep voice could sound like the growl of a raging predator if he was angered. The chilly, stone depths of Jorrvaskr's living quarters meant that their non-nord contemporaries would be making haste back up to the top of Jorrvaskr to the main hall where the fire kept them warm. As for Vilkas and Farkas, they enjoyed taking their time.

Vilkas gave his brother a friendly pat on his back and said, "How are you this morning, brother?"

"All is well." Farkas replied plainly. "You hear? Kodlak's brought in someone new!"

"Yes." Vilkas sighed tiredly. "He mentioned it to me earlier. He wouldn't say much about who she is. Mostly he went on about that she seems to have a passion for the arcane."

"What?" Fakras looked hard at his twin with a confused look.

"Magic – brother." Vilkas replied with repose as he was used too resorting to such pleonasms for his brothers' sake. "She has a love for magic and potions."

"Hmmm…" Farkas responded as he thoughtfully rubbed his stubble freckled chin. "A mage is to be a Companion? Hardly makes sense." Vilkas agreed with a hum and a subtle nod of his head. As they spoke to one another they made their way down the arched, windowless corridors of Jorrvaskr's lower level. Chandeliers that hung only over the intersecting corridors lit the dull, gray quarry stone of the halls aside from a few lit scattered candles before they reached the doors that lead up to the top level.

The two brothers continued to converse with one another as they made their way to the dining table until they were stopped by Tilma. She was an elderly lady who was well within the twilight years of her life. She came upon them with an inquisitive look and Vilkas stopped talking so that Tilma made address them.

"Excuse me, boys?" She said politely. "Could one of you be a dear and head to Arcadia's Cauldron for me? I have a list of materials that I need to get. I would do it myself but Jorrvaskr needs cleaned and my old bones don't care much for the cold anymore."

"I'll get it, Tilma." Farkas offered.

"No, no, brother! Allow me." Vilkas uttered suddenly and took the list that Tilma was holding before Farkas grabbed it.

"Are you sure? I can…"

"No, no, no. I could use the walk." Vilkas made off with the list and walked out into the brisk cold. He descended down the stone steps of Jorrvaskr to the Winds District of Whiterun right into the park where the Gildergreen stood in its proud decadence. Vilkas understood that tree was significant to the city for its historical and religious significance – especially to the temple of Kynareth that stood across the park directly opposite Jorrvaskr. Its history is fascinating; of this Vilkas had no doubt; but the damned thing had been dead for so long that he felt that it should be forgotten.

He went down another flight of stone stairs that lead him to the main market place where the market stalls stood empty as their owners still had not opened them up. A few were laying out their goods to be sold but that was all to be seen until later when the market would be packed with people looking to purchase and barter.

Arcadia's Cauldron was thankfully one of the first stores to open in the morning and Vilkas stepped inside followed by a small jingle of the bell that hung above him to let the owner know that a patron has stepped inside.

Vilkas stepped in and was greeted with a gust of warm air that came from the square shaped hearth in the center of the main room that lit the entire place. The woman in charge, who the store was named after, was leaned over another lady at her alchemy table. She quickly turned her head and smiled when she saw him close the door behind him with a small click. Arcadia walked behind the counter where hand-made concoctions of different varieties stood in bottles of different colours along with different alchemical ingredients from flowers to other organic material and waited for Vilkas to state his business. He pulled from his pocket the list that he had taken from Tilma and was about to speak before a loud clanking of glass interrupted him from the alchemy table. He looked over and saw a woman with a slender frame wearing greenish-blue robes with white, silken trims facing away from him closely bent over the table too busy into her work to notice anything that was happening around her.

"May I help you, Vilkas?" Arcadia asked with a smile. Arcadia was pleased to see Vilkas. She had always thought he was a very attractive man. His dark, shoulder length hair and unshaven stubble always caught her eye but she most adored his icy gray eyes. Such a unique eye colour; she thought. But, her admiration was always from afar since he was always coming and going from Whiterun. The price one had to pay to be a Companion as was the kind of standard that they adhered to.

"Ummm…yes." Vilkas said as he turned his eyes back on the sheet of paper. He scratched his temple and said, "Let's see here."

"AH! AH HA HA!" The unknown woman shouted in a victorious manner very suddenly. "I've done it! I've don't it!" She stood up from her stool with vigor, pushing it against her leg and almost making it fall over. She ran over to Arcadia with zeal and that was when she took notice of Vilkas through dilated pupils. She laughed, tucked her hair behind her long pointy ear and said, "Do excuse me! It's hard to contain one's excitement when they have made a very momentous breakthrough. Do come and see for yourself!" She ran back to the alchemy table and Arcadia went with her.

Vilkas exchanged glances between the girls and the counter before he sighed and approached the table himself to see what the fuss was about. "Now!" The woman said sharply to garner their attention. "Of course after numerous attempts, I have done it!" She repeated then wiped sweat from her forehead. "After mixing Fly Amanita - which we all know is a common fungus - with the root of a Creep Cluster and the wings of the lovely Monarch butterfly – I have succeeded in creating a compound with the necessary various effects that will revitalize and protect the Gildergreen!" The altmer woman squeaked, bounced up and down on her toes as she rapidly clapped her hands together in a puerile manner. It could have gone without saying that no greater delight could have shown across the altmer's face.

On the table in front of them there stood a green bottle about the size of a wine bottle with a thick, dark liquid that Vilkas almost thought was mud if the scent didn't convince him otherwise.

"And, you managed to do it without nullifying the effects of any of the other agents?" Arcadia inquired with an incredulous expression but with obvious excitement. The altmer nodded with a wide smile. "But, you added so much! How could you without causing some kind negative reaction?" Arcadia was sure that with so many compounds; some even extremely volatile; that some sort of backfire would have occurred.

"You give me far little credit, Arcadia." The altmer retorted. "I am a practiced alchemist with an intimate knowledge of the field. The only way to prove that something can be done is by making the attempt. Now, hurry with the samples. The sooner that we record the results, the sooner I can add them to my publication. Quickly now! Quickly! The significance of this is highly acute." The altmer said as she waved the back of her hand at Arcadia.

Now that the moment had at present revealed itself, Vilkas observed with careful scrutiny all that he could of the excited alchemist standing before him. In height she stood over six feet tall about the same height as himself. She had light red hair and like all High Elves that he had encountered in his life she had fair and smooth skin that still held the golden complexion indicative of all Altmer. Her eyes entire were like that of brilliant emeralds that were sharp, piercing and seemingly observant. Her facial features were sharp, narrow and pronounced that gave her whole expression an air of alertness and decision. Arcadia returned handing out a blue cloth that was wrapped around something therein and the altmer reached out for it allowing Vilkas the sight of her hands which held a very feminine elegance and were blotted with ink, faint burn marks and light patches of discoloured skin like a caustic material had damaged it upon contact showing the evidence of the altmer woman's practice. Yet, despite the state of her hands, she demonstrated a delicate touch as she went about the alchemy table.

It was here where Vilkas came upon a notion of intrigue towards the altmer whom he had a growing suspicion.

"Excuse me, miss?" Vilkas inquired curiously to the altmer. She looked up at him with wide eyes that subtly shook from left to right and despite how cold it was outside she had a clear sheet of sweat on her forehead. "You wouldn't happen to be the newest member of The Companions by any chance, would you?"

"An excellent observation, Vilkas!" She said with a toothy smile. "You certainly live up to your reputation for being as quick as a whip - least, that's is how your Harbinger had put it but, you're too slow. So, I personally would call it amateurish at best. I mean no disrespect I assure you. Kodlak was a bit sententious and proudly boastful." Vilkas felt a kind of bitterness fill his heart at her comment.

"Oh, but where are my manners? I have not introduced myself." She raised her hand out and said, "An'Aloriander. Pleasure to make your acquaintance Companion. If you find my name too much to bear than you may call Annie as many of my associates often do." The way she had pronounced her nick-name sounded like 'On-Nee' and Vilkas repeated it as he had heard it.

"Pleasure." Vilkas replied dryly as he shook her hand. "Apologies, but I need to get what I have come for and be off. Will you be making your way to Jorrvaskr later?"

"Obviously. I did not join for the sake of saying I had been accepted." Vilkas once again felt a bite of annoyance. Did this woman know no ounce of respect?

"Indeed. Well then, enjoy your morning. We in The Companions will see you this afternoon."

"Indeed, you shall." Annie poised.

Vilkas had done what he had come to do and slowly made way back to Jorrvaskr. He breathed deeply through his nose and shook his head. He honestly did not know what to think of the new Companion to be; assuming she'd make it which Vilkas doubted with great strides. She was to slender and frail looking with no trace of muscle to be hinted at. She looked like she would run from a fight before it even started and if that didn't kill her than certainly one if his Shield-Siblings would. She was rude and disrespectful that went beyond the childish insults that The Companions routinely threw at one another.

Despite all that, Vilkas still garnered some level of intrigue towards Annie. The sheer amount of enthusiasm, excitement and energy she shared about her work was contagious enough that he wondered if her compound would actually work to bringing the Gildergreen back to life. There was passion in her for sure which could help her on her way to being a Companion which served to show what Kodlak said about her to be true and he felt guilty for having doubted the old man. There was passion in her, or as Kodlack had put it, _"A fire burning in their hearts"._


	2. Lethargic

This chapter went through a few drafts before I could decide on what I wanted even then there are some things I would have preferred to do differently. That's not to suggest that I am not content with it. There were a few things in here that I added that accidentally fell into place rather well because they helped me establish things that will be addressed later.

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Just as she and Kodlak had said – An'Aloriander had made it to Jorrvaskr that afternoon. She arrived with an average and modest satchel on her person and over her shoulders she wore a fur cloak to shield her from the biting cold outside. In her hand she held a staff made from a sturdy red wood with a brilliant golden handle around its shaft and around its base. On the top stood a blue crystal of near perfect geometry that turned purple as a kind of reaction to the light that surrounded it.

Her staff was not her only weapon for she also had a sword attached to her hip. It was enclosed in a black sheath that was embroiled with gold at both of its ends. It was not a kind of sword that just any smith could make. No; it took a smith of above exceptional skill to craft. A true pioneer in his field for her sword was made of ebony. It was a perfect light, one handed weapon that was far sturdier than steel and hardly ever needed to be sharpened for it maintained its edge far better than most other blades.

No one in Jorrvaskr seemed to have taken notice to Annie as she made her way in. In fact, as she closed the doors behind her; she observed through red rimmed, glassy and languid eyes a fight suddenly brake lose between a Nord woman and Dunmer man. She took a minute to watch the paroxysm of violence as they threw wild punches at one another. The Dunmer had tried to throw a plate at the woman's face but she ducked and the plate broke against the stairs that lead to the back and she slammed his head into the table. It was then the dark elf grabbed the woman around the waste and threw her onto the table and proceeded to try and elbow her repeatedly - landing a solid elbow to her nose which then began to bleed and the woman had wrapped her legs around the man's neck and arm in attempt to try and suffocate him.

Annie closed her eyes and shook her head as she decided that she had witnessed enough of the brawl. From the its sudden happening she was able to see that such a thing was undoubtedly a common occurrence. She had already an idea of what she could expect from Jorrvaskr and the hardy fellows that called it their home from what Kodlak had told her and from the usual stories she had heard or read about of similar guilds throughout Tamriel.

Jorrvaskr itself - she would not describe as humble but she would neither say it was something grandeur. A mighty sea faring vessel that was simply made of deteriorating wood made up the roof of the building. It was modified to fit the building for there no signs of the ships seats. Decorated wooden pillars carved with Nordic signs and symbols reached upward to the ceiling. Some were draped with red flags bearing the image of an ax with a face of anguish in its center and some were used to hang the heads of wild game that had been caught. Where the fight was happening was the center of the large room where the Companions broke bread together. The dining table was shaped like a large 'U' and was littered with different dishes of food that was currently being strewn about as the combatants rolled across the table until they rolled off of the edge and onto the ground.

"May I help you dear?" Chirped a sweet and elderly voice. Annie turned and saw a short elderly woman with curious eyes and a polite smile. She was the maid from what Annie could see. Tilma's hands were slightly pruned and the skirt of her dress showed some discolouration at the knees. She had been scrubbing the floors earlier that day from what Annie could observe from her and the shiny state of the wooden tier of the floor before it descended into carpet covered stone.

"Yes actually, miss..."

"Tilma." She answered.

"Tilma." Repeated Annie. "Would you be so kind as to..." Before she could finish her question she witnessed Kodlak walking up a set of steps along with Vilkas following behind him with a large black branded shield around his arm and a miserable expression about his face that suddenly vanished to something more stern and cold the moment he beheld Annie.

"Aloriander!" Kodlack said with a genuine smile. He was bright, eager and in excellent spirits for he was glad to see her in Jorrvaskr at last. Before he reached and greeted her he could see there was something wrong with the Altmer whom he had grown fond of in such a short time. Behind her smile there was something black lurking behind it that consumed her mind in a sort of depression and there was an odd smell about her. It was a scent he knew well but he did not speak of it for now was not a very appropriate time.

Kodlak grasped her shoulders and said, "Something bothers you, child. Would you care to talk about it?"

Annie jolted her head to the side. "Not at any length, no. Though I appreciate your attempt to sooth my frustration; know that I needn't have it." She said obdurately.

"Then may I offer you this?" Kodlack poised lustrously. "Simply put; look into the brightness of the day for its unparalleled light shall shine through and illuminate the grounds on which you stand."

An odd, short pause followed before Annie replied with, "There is no light. It's winter," in a stoic tone.

With a small and quiet laugh, Kodlak said, "You miss the point, girl. Just count all that is good in your life and be thankful for all of which you have compared to that of which you don't. Now than, I do believe we have some things we need to do before anything else."

"Such as?" Annie raised an eyebrow.

"I am to test your arm." Vilkas said declared indignantly. He would have rather not, but Kodlak had asked him and he could never turn the old man down. He did have to admit to himself that he was curious to see how Annie would perform. If Kodlak was so confident in this alchemist, then there must be some quality about her that was escaping him like a mocking thief that laughed at him.

"Ah! An initiation is it, then?" Annie inquired.

"Of a kind you could say." Kodlak replied. "But, it is more of a preparatory test. To see if you have the mettle to stand with us when we call upon you."

"I see. A wise test indeed! Such a shame it would be should one of your energetic lot bring someone in and they simply turn out to be a waste of time and effort. How often – if I may ask - does this happen?"

"Not as often as you would believe. We normally find people of exemplary talent as you can clearly see." Kodlak gestured to the two brawling whom were simply trading fists at this point with the rest sitting on the table cheering and laughing. "I hope this does not discourage you." Kodlak continued. "We're a rowdy bunch and such sudden fights are common place here."

"So I already gathered." Annie informed curtly. "In such a succinct living space – tensions rise and nerves are easily touched."

"Indeed." Kodlak agreed. "Now go ahead and head out to the training yard. I've kept you longer than I should have."

"Think nothing of it, Harbinger." Annie shifted her eyes to Vilkas then said, "Shall we?"

"After you." He responded holding his arm to the door that lead to the training court yard then sighed as he followed Annie and Kodlak out, none of them paying Athis any mind as he laid on the ground near the dining table with a bleeding brow and holding his groin. Vilkas felt that would happen to him. Njada had a history of fighting dirty and hitting below the belt.

Outside stood Farkas who was training in blissful solitude before Annie and Vilkas stepped onto the courtyard. Vilkas nodded to his brother who nodded back in understanding and went to sit at the bench across from Kodlak to watch the fight. Farkas stared intently at the Altmer that stood across from his brother. He found her to be especially beautiful and fair looking but he didn't see anything indicative of a warrior. But, what did he know? He's seen warriors of many different builds so maybe he would be impressed by this woman.

"Okay, just have a few swings at me so I can see your form. Don't worry, I can take it." Vilkas took a defensive stance behind his shield, hiding most of his body. "Magic is not allowed in this fight, is that understood?"

Annie dropped her satchel and staff to the ground and unsheathed her sword exposing the black sword that hid beneath. "Transparently." She said in reply to Vilkas before she started walking casually around Vilkas whilst swinging and twirling her sword from side to side so as to set her frame of mind. She stopped, turned in place with her sword facing out pointed downward then suddenly…nothing.

Above them, the clouds flew over and it was deafeningly silent. Annie made no attempt to move and Vilkas practiced patience as best as he could as Kodlak had advised him to try earlier that day, but things began to feel awkward. Vilkas stared at his opponent hoping that at any second she was going to attack him but she stood solid still like she was paralyzed.

At the bench from they were sitting Kodlak and Farkas looked at one another and Farkas shrugged his shoulders. Annie's face was glazed over with a pallid expression with empty and half lidded eyes. She was staring right at Vilkas but she was staring passed him; not paying attention to anything that was laid out in front of her.

"HEY!" Vilkas barked. "Has your mind gone?!"

Annie suddenly rapidly shook her head and blinked herself out of her daze. Her attention and focus was back to where it should be with an unexpected vitality and she ran for Vilkas. Both of her hands were tied tightly around her sword. As she ran she held her sword up high. Vilkas raised his shield and Annie brought forth a powerful strike against his shield.

It was a straight forward attack, not one Annie would normally make on a first bounce but it mattered not here.

Vilkas recovered and Annie was already onto her next attack. She jumped in the air and thrusted her sword towards his neck and Vilkas blocked without fail for that was an attack he was very familiar with as he had seen it performed before by others. Next Annie made an attempt for his feet. He had left them exposed and she swung her sword in a downward horizontal sweep. Vilkas jumped; making her miss and she followed it up with another rightward horizontal strike but her sword only met his shield once again.

"Enough!" Vilkas ordered as he stepped away. "Not bad." He commended. "Now let's see how you handle defense." Annie rolled her eyes with huff and Vilkas gave a subtle smirk to what was about to happen. Farkas leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Kodlak remained reserved and observant.

Annie prepped herself and Vilkas charged. He lunged his sword forward towards Annie's stomach and she stepped back while simultaneously clashing her sword with his. Their blades scraped against one another which made a sharp sound as Annie pushed his sword off to the side with her own. He came back with an attempt on her neck. Now normally Annie would have just leaned back as the sword passed but she instead lifted her sword up and held on with her other hand pushing on the blade so she wouldn't stagger once Vilkas's sword crashed into hers.

It came as no surprise to Annie but Vilkas was dumbstruck to see that once his sword collided with hers that Annie's blade had cut into his own. His blood rushed to his face, his head filled with heat and his eyes went wide. In an instant; Vilkas let go of his sword which was stuck in place against Annie's and formed a tight fist. Annie was knocked against the mouth and she hit the ground hard and their weapons fell.

Kodlak and Farkas quickly stood up from their seats in shock frightened at the prospects of what was to happen next. Vilkas was breathing hard through his nostrils and felt all the anger slowly escape his mind. Annie faintly groaned as slowly lifted herself onto her knees from the ice cold stone beneath her and her bangs hung unscrupulously over her face. She rubbed her mouth with her wrist and saw a red smear on her skin and tasted iron on her tongue.

"We're finished." Vilkas stated with grit in his throat. "Congratulations. Next time I will not go so easy on you."

"I don't recall anyone saying that you had to hold back?" Annie retorted with no apparent venom in her tone before she went to rub her face.

"Don't get smart!" Vilkas then resigned with a deep sigh. "You may just make it. But you're still a whelp to us, New Blood. So you do what we tell you." Vilkas bent over to pick up the fused weapons before extricating them. He casted Annie's weapon to the side and held his out to her. "Here's my sword. Go take it up to Eorland to have it sharpened. It's the least you can do for ruining it. And, be careful, it's worth more than you are!"

Annie spat blood on the floor but her lip still bleed, and she took his sword before Vilkas walked away with Kodlak following him in with a disappointed look on his face.

Spitting more blood before she made an attempt to stand she felt a large, gentle, hand grab underneath her arm that pulled her to her feat. "Sorry that my brother punched you. I'm Farkas." Annie peered up at the stalwart Nord. Her vision was blurry and so she squinted to help her focus. "He's been like that since we were pups. He doesn't like having his things broken."

"I would hesitate to call it broken." Annie replied rubbing her eyes. She held Vilka's sword and observed the damage and saw a small triangular chip in the blade. "It's but a dent if anything. Hardly a thing to become angered over." Silently, Farkas handed Annie over her satchel which she took and wrapped over her shoulder then her sword which she slid back into its sheath. He held onto the staff out of curtesy.

"I'll show you where Eorland works. He's on top at Skyforge. Then I'll show you where you'll be resting your head."

Tucking her arms underneath her fur cloak, Annie said, "That would be most kind of you. Thank you."

Side by side they walked over a withered pathway that lead up and around a giant stack of jagged rocks. As they neared the top, the head of a giant carved eagle rose into view like the sun over the horizon. She had observed this monument every time she made her to and from Dragonsreach and beheld its majesty each time. It spoke of a fundamental truth about the Nords that they can display moments of unparalleled craftsmanship. Only their tenacity could allow for such rigorous effort.

A great forge stood at the base of the statue where an elderly Nord with long white hair stood working in solemn vacancy. He was pulling on a rope in which each time he did the fires of the forge came forth with new life before sinking down again like it was breathing. Eorland took from the forge a long piece of metal that was glowing red half way down and he proceeding to beat it with a metal hammer. His muscles flexed each time his swung. Annie was impressed that even in old age that a Nord could maintain such a physique.

"Eorland!" Farkas shouted in a manner one would to garner one's attention from afar. He turned revealing to a white beard before wiping his sweaty forehead as he did. Farkas placed his hand on Annie's back and said, "This is An'Alorli…Hugh! An'Ali...Uh." He looked at Annie canvassing her for assistance.

"Aloriander." She spoke. "But, most simply refer to me as Annie." Farkas wished he had known that before he tried to say her name. He cursed himself for not asking prior.

"Eorland Gray-Mane." Eorland replied and they shook hands. He did not fail to see a drying string of blood down her chin and a fresh bruise upon her cheek. Annie inwardly cringed in disgust at the sweaty and clammy state of his cold palm. "What brings you here?"

"According to our Companion here." She referred to Farkas. "I – ahem – 'broke' Vilkas's sword." Farkas turned his head away from her and crossed his arms.

"I'm guessing you're the newcomer then?" Eorland inquired rhetorically as he took the sword from Annie. He ran his thumb down the length of the sword and then noticed the chip. He only wondered how such a thing could have happened to one his weapons, but his wonder was overshadowed by the relief that it would take no time at all to fix. "I'll have this done soon enough. However, there is something I would like you to do for me. I've been working on a shield for Aela. My wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon. Would one of you have the kindness to take it to her?"

"Aela's not here." Said Farkas.

Eorland's face turned solemn. "Out on a job, is she?"

Farkas nodded. "Hammerfell. Something about a bear the size of mammoth."

"I suppose I shall have to hold onto it for now until she gets back." Eorland said, unhappy with the turn of events.

"See you around, Eorland." Farkas said before he and Annie turned to leave.

Relief spread over Annie's mind and body when she felt the warmth of a fire wash over body when Farkas opened the doors of Jorrvaskr and it sent goosebumps down her arms and tingles down her spine. "Over here." Farkas motioned for her to follow him further and he took her to Jorrvaskr's lower level where she was once again met by a spiteful chill.

"You'll meet Aela and Skjor soon enough. They like to tease me, but they're good people. They challenge us to be our best" He explained proudly. "It's nice to see a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes. I hope we keep you."

"I did join with the intention of staying for a while." She remarked. Farkas was unaffected by her tone unlike his brother. He was used to such smart comments.

He handed Annie her staff back then pushed open a set of doors and before them stood a startled woman who was going to open the doors to leave before they arrived. "Oh! Farkas." The woman gasped and placed her hand over her heart. "You gave me a fright."

"Sorry Ria." He replied amused. "I was just showing the New Blood where she'll be sleeping."

Ria peeked passed Farkas's shoulder where she saw Annie standing behind him.

"Oh, an Altmer!" She said in awe.

"Beg your pardon?" Retorted Annie bemused.

"Sorry, it's just not every day when we see an Altmer in the city walls. Normally they don't come around here." Annie was no mood for further discussion but this woman seemed eager to say something more as she came up to her. "So your new here, huh?" Ria placed her fists on her hips. "You know; I was the newest member before you came around. I guess that just means I get to show you the ropes."

Taking in a deep breath Annie struggled with finding the correct words to say. Her poisoned brained, which was ruined thanks to Vilkas, was making it difficult and so she settled for a default. "That's great!" She feigned her enthusiasm and it was almost painful to force a smile. Ria hadn't noticed.

"By the Nine! What happened to your face!" Ria pointed to Annie's swollen cheek which was now showing signs of bruising.

"That's enough, Ria!" Farkas ordered.

An awkwardness filled Ria's head and she suddenly felt ashamed. "Sorry. It was rude to ask." She gazed at Farkas once more before saying to Annie, "Well, I guess I will see you around. Maybe we'll even fight side by side some time."

"Let's not hold our breath." Replied Annie in feigned politeness. "For the 'black condition' of the world does not allow us to know in any kind of certainty what the future holds for any one." Farkas didn't know what Annie was talking about but the way she spoke got to him. The only way he could best think about it was dark.

"No, I suppose not." Ria said only understanding the context of the latter half of Annie's words. "Anyway – I will be in the mess hall. Come find me later after you've settled in if you want."

"Sure."

Ria left and Farkas and Annie stepped into the room that was to be her quarters which she would be sharing with the rest of the lesser members of the companions by all appearances. The room was a small, narrow space with wooden arches separating the room between where the men and women slept with four separate beds to each side. The same red flags that she saw upstairs were pinned against the walls and there were but a few modest pieces of furniture therein.

"Men." Farkas pointed the right side of the room. "Women." Then pointed to the left. He placed his hands on his hips. "Alright, so here you are. Just pick a bed and fall in it when you're tired.: Annie chuckled. "Tilma will keep the place clean. She always has. And, welcome to The Companions. Good luck. Any questions?"

"Just one."

"Hmm?"

"How did you learn my name before I arrived?" Annie never said her name in front of him before speaking to Eorland Gray-Mane and there were at that point only two people who could have brought it up.

Scratching his head before he spoke, Farkas replied with, "My brother told me about you before you came. Is that all?" Annie nodded and Farkas went for the stairs.

With a heavily needed sigh, Annie closed the doors behind and leaned back against them. She closed her eyes then rubbed her throbbing cheek. Vilkas certainly had a strong hand. She needed to be alone at this moment. There was something that only she could take care of and she needed the isolation, if but for a minute or two.

Right now, her mood needed tending to.


	3. Enigmatic

This chapter was a bit touch and go here and there but I am glad to have ended it where it is. The latter half of the chapter isn't what I really wanted but for the sake of the story and for the sake of not dragging the chapter out, I'm glad to have written the way I did. I do not like writing unnecessarily long chapters because I feel like they bore the readers and keep the story from progressing, but there are of course a few exceptions to this. Chapter four I have planned out already and will be, or I hope will be very interesting for you guys and after that the story will begin to step forward. Please enjoy.

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"I didn't mean to strike her; Harbinger! It was the blood." Vilkas pleaded as he leaned forward and set his head down in his hands over the table. He was in clear distress. He ran his hands back through his hair and blew out a gust of wind from his chest. He was tapping his foot against the ground as he had been doing since he and Kodlak went inside after he attacked Annie. His head achingly throbbed and all he could think of was someone opening a door in rapid succession over and over and over again; louder and louder each time. His body hurt all over like he had been carrying a great weight in his arms and on his back until he could no longer hold it, and then he carried it some more. "I still hear the call of the blood." Vilkas said keeping his head down with his hair gripped in his hands.

Silently, Kodlak nodded in full understanding to the problem that reared itself. It should have been obvious to him for he had felt the same when he started ignoring 'the blood' as he grew older and his perceptions shifted. Difficult as it was, it was not an impossible obstacle. Like a junkie to his addiction, the will power of the individual was the stepping stone to freedom. Body aches and throbbing heads were painful and tempted them to answer for their negligence; but Kodlak had no doubts that Vilkas will overcome.

He looked at the boy with a sympathetic look and a small smile of admiration. He reached over the table and took Vilkas's hand in his own and squeezed it with reassurance. He wasn't going to bore him with rhetoric or things that could be considered common place. Something did need to said however to ease the young warrior.

After his incident in the yard, Vilkas marched immediately to his room to be alone for a little while and Kodlak had allowed that time to be had so he would be in better spirits to talk. When the time had come, Kodlak insisted that they talk privately in his study that sat just outside of his personal quarters if only to comfort Vilkas and insure that it was just he and him that were listening and no one else.

"We all do. It is our burden to bear. But, we can overcome, Vilkas."

Pulling his hand back; Vilkas lifted his head up and wiped his hands across his head and down his face – taking a deep breath then blowing it out. Kodlak saw clearly how haggard the ordeal is making him. Sleeplessness was common to those with 'the blood' but you got used to it, but going through the symptoms of withdrawal exacerbated that condition. "You have my brother and I, obviously. But I don't know if the rest will go along quite so easily."

"Leave that to me." Kodlak said reassuringly. "Right now, however – I think you have something else that you should be thinking about. And, that's how you're going to make it up to Aloriander for assaulting her as you did."

"Harbinger; with all due respect – you know that I have never been good at that sort of thing."

"I am more than well aware, lad. But, I am confident that you will figure something out. Remember the shortest fence is the easiest to get across."

Vilkas meditated on his words briefly before he understood what he implied. "Your wisdom surely knows no bounds." He said with a lightened smirk.

With but a small wave of his hand and a shrug of his shoulders, Kodlak said, "Age changes the hair, but not always the mind." They both laughed.

Now that he was in a lighter mood, Vilkas went about the rest of the day in a more expected fashion. Still no new jobs came in which was a shame to behold with embitterment for the winter months were slow months. He instead focused on finding constructive and productive ways to distract himself from the burden that polluted his mind. Normally he would seek out his brother but Farkas was engaging himself with Annie, who appeared more energetic now than she did when she had arrived – the juxtaposition thereof being miraculous; and it appeared that whatever conversation they were sharing was a cheerful one.

It didn't seem right to Vilkas that he should try and make it up to Annie for she probably didn't want him near her as much as he didn't want her near himself and he hadn't a proper apology in mind and something as simple as, 'I'm sorry', he didn't think was going to be enough. So he settled with going out into the court yard to clear his mind and rest his body for the remainder of the day before night stole through the horizon.

Dinner was made and the Companions broke their bread in the same manner that they did every night with celebration and merriment which included loud talking, lots of laughter, food and drinks to be imbibed. Drinking was not exactly an essential skill to have to be a Companion, but it was one that they all took pride in and Annie had demonstrated that she had that potential for she and Farkas had begun to drink competitively. Mug after mug they drank. Farkas sitting still every time before he slammed his mug on the table while Annie as she reached end of her drink would stand up and tilt her head back before she did the same.

Vilkas was marked impressed at the elf's ability to drink like a Nord. It was difficult to imagine an Altmer, no matter their status in life, partaking in such activities.

In a fit of laughter, Ria turned to Annie and asked, "So Annie what brings you to us?' Vilkas leaned forward on the table with his fist in his hand hanging over his face inquisitively.

Annie stopped mid-drink and looked at Farkas who looked back at her. She swallowed her beverage followed by a loud belch then said, "Neces – 'hic'!" Annie pounded on her chest with her fist and belched again but silently this time. "Necessity." She repeated.

"Oh, come on!" Ria insisted. "Tell us about yourself."

Annie scratched her head in irritation before she answered. "Well…" She looked down her mug and swirled the mead inside a bit and said, "I'm 'hic' absurd."

"Absurd?" Ria repeated. "What's that supposed to mean."

"Sorry." Annie closed her eyes then rubbed them. She turned in her chair then leaned back to lean on Farkas. "I meant absorbed." Annie said with an expression of complete contentment with her eyes closed and a floating smile as she leaned back onto Farkas. "Absorbed with this!" She threw her arm out to gesture to the whole hall. "The comradery!" Annie shot forward in her chair just inches from Ria's face. Annie's eyes were wide and she carried a wide grin. "I haven't seen the likes of something like this in a long 'hic' time."

"How long is a long time?" Vilkas asked with genuine curiosity though, it could have been because he himself had a few drinks in him. "Please enthrall us with your story."

"Hmmm…" Annie looked up in contemplation and rubbed her hand against her chin. "Well, not since I was attending the College of Winterhold to be sure. But, I never was good at fitting in with that lot. They were too moronic for me. Plus, I hadn't the time or need for friends which I had only one of."

"Is that where you trained to be alchemist?" Vilkas asked.

"Not in the since that you think." Annie replied. "It was there that I received my training, yes. But, I did not learn from a class or the like. I learned to be an alchemist from my friend who was far experienced than I at the time. He was a strange man, even by Khajiit standards. Had this odd obsession with snowberries for some reason." Annie spoke the latter half in a more of a rhetorical mumble as she spoke while again looking into her unfinished mug of mead and swirling it around.

"That reminds me!" Vilkas exclaimed holding up his index finger. "How did your potion work? The one you were working on before you arrived."

"Ugh!" Annie rolled her eyes and tilted her head off to the side. "It was a failure! The moment my compound mixed with the samples that were taken from the Gildergreen itself they corroded like I had instead poured acid on them."

"That is unfortunate." Vilkas said dryly.

"Yes well, despite the frustrating failure that it was – my compound was a harmony of alchemical precision." There was a small pause. "Oh, look at that!" Annie hit her head with the heal of her palm. "I got so engaged in this talk that I forgot about my beverage! Farkas dear, would you care to continue our friendly competition. I still have some ways to go."

"Why not." Farkas replied with a grin and they continued drinking throughout the night forgetting about the conversation entirely.

As was common, Vilkas usually turned in before everybody else in Jorrvaskr other than Kodlak and his brother who wouldn't be too far behind. When he stepped through the threshold of his bedroom he suddenly felt the weight of fatigue upon his body and wanted nothing more than to forgo taking his armor off and just fall face down into his bed. But his need for a comfortable sleep was greater than his will. Slowly but effectively, even while slightly drunk, he removed the pieces of his armor and set them in his wardrobe.

Sleep would not come easily, that he was well aware of and it was all thinks to 'the blood' but drinking always helped settle him as he would at least fall asleep quicker than usual.

He sat down on his bed, rubbed his face and moved his body under his blankets before blowing out the candles and allowing his heavy eyes to finally close. He would have no dreams that night.

Days went by with no jobs to be seen. Unexpectedly to Vilkas, Annie was not a difficult person to live with. She was usually quiet in her ways, hardly making the time to say more than two words to anybody except for Farkas who had become a fast friend to her. Over the course of time, Vilkas had observed her habitual nature. She spent most of the daylight outside of Jorrvaskr doing whatever came into her mind whether it was spending the entire day at Arcadia's cauldron or taking long and exhausting walks around the city or outside of the city walls. Where she would go, no one yet knew. When she came across something that truly stimulated her mind, nothing could exceed the energy she had when such a fit came upon her.

All of these things Vilkas came to know as the things that made Annie but, one of her interesting and yet odd habits was sitting upon whatever piece of furniture attracted her the most where she would lay upon it for hours with her hands over belly and her ankles crossed and not utter a single sound or move a single muscle. It was also when Annie would do this that Vilkas took notice of a dreamy, vacant expression in her eyes much like when she and him dueled in the yard.

Vilkas kept quiet about how much Annie intrigued him and dared not confess it to anyone, not even Farkas or Kodlak. There was something about her that he couldn't escape from no matter how much he wanted to. Why was she here and what did she want? She gave no hint as to what her desires where and he doubted that they had anything to do with being a Companion due to her obsession with the Gildergreen. He endeavored to try and break through the reticence she so strongly held onto when it came to most anything that involved herself. Anything she did offer on the subject was not inherently helpful either for they were mostly idle details.

Again this struck him as odd because for as intelligent as she appeared to be, she made no points of anything she had accomplished in her chosen fields from the arcane to her alchemical practice.

These things that he thought about soon became too much for him and he needed to distract himself and so he picked a book from his personal collection and sat in the main hall to read it. That also happened to be wear Annie was doing the same over the dining table while she also ate a snack. But, Old Vignar - Gray Mane was also in the room.

Annie was unaware of Vignar's prejudice towards elves and the Companions all believed that he would show their new initiate some modicum of resect like he had done for Athis when he first joined. Usually Vignar kept his distance from Annie as casually as he could achieve and would only silently judge her through darkened glares when he knew she wasn't paying attention, but today was a different day.

Vilkas was already nose deep in his book when he heard Vignar snidely say, "It's difficult to imagine a High Elf living among such simple folk."

Annie looked up from her book and took a deep breath then went back to her book and said, "Yes, I am well aware that my people do not tend to roam in these parts of Skyrim." Vilkas slowly lowered his book so he could peek over and carefully watch without being noticed.

"Indeed, so one can only imagine what one is doing here now. Especially a High Elf who practices magic."

Annie silently placed her bookmark inside of her book then closed it quietly. She turned in her seat towards Vingar, clasped her hands in her lap and then coughed to clear her throat. "Is there a problem?"

"Indeed there is." Vignar growled. "You are the problem. You damned elves come into our home. You kill our people, take them from their homes and ruin families. Try to tell us who we can or cannot worship." Annie sat there in complete indifference. "And, you have the gull to walk into our city and claim yourself a Companion! Some nerve. I bet your just some spy sent by the Aldmeri Dominion sent here to spread nothing but deception and lies! I tell you, I cannot wait to see Ulfric sit on the throne so that he sends you all to Oblivion."

Annie laughed then stood. She straitened out her robes then said, "Vignar is it? Listen Vignar. Have you ever heard of the Markarth incident? No? That doesn't surprise me since most who know about it don't like to talk about it, but allow me to enlighten you on the subject. Those of you who support the Stormcloaks, so passionately preach about religious freedom and maintaining your homelands – that is admirable but, are you aware that 'Nords' under 'Ulfrics' command systematically slaughtered and drove away the native peoples of The Reach for the same reasons that you despise my people for."

"You lie!" He shouted. He tried to make himself as intimidating as he could but Annie stood as calm and unaffected as ever. He found her patronizing smirk all the more enraging.

"Oh, no it's true. Very true. Just ask the Forsworn, they'll tell you. Assuming they don't kill you first. But, would you like to know the main reason why the Nords attacked them? What's the old saying? Blood and Silver run through Markarth." Vignar's face turned red as blood rushed to his face and his body trembled. "For that the Forsworn were driven from their homes by the Nords and the Silver-Bloods are just soaking it all in…" Annie snapped her fingers in succession and did a dance with her hips. "like a sponge in the water. So I ask you Vignar – who's the real problem?"

Taking slow, deliberate steps towards Annie with an intense glare, Vignar stood face to face with her, obtruding his finger in her face and said in a dark tone, "Just you mind your back, Elf," and marched towards the front doors of Jorrvaskr with tightly held fists. It was now snowing outside and the wind was unyielding. When Vignar opened the doors to leave, a cool gust of wind pushed its way inside and Annie felt the cold slither around and move up her legs. Vignar slammed the doors as he left.

Shaking her head, Annie rolled her eyes and chuckled before sitting down to return to her book. She saw Vilkas looking at her passed his book and so she said, "What did I do to upset you, now?"

Vilkas snapped his book shut, crossed one leg over the other and scratched his head. "It's not so much that you frustrate me. It's the subject of politics. I personally wouldn't mind them if I thought what they pertained to was worth a sweat but in this instant I do not."

"So would you rather I not speak of it?" She asked.

"That would be preferred." Annie huffed then rolled her eyes. Vilkas got up from his chair then moved to sit right next to her. "Listen Annie. I do not know you and I do not care if I ever do or not…"

"The feeling is mutual." She said keeping her eyes on her book.

"But! Politics are not important to us. We don't care for them; we don't want them; they have no place in Jorrvaskr."

Annie silently thought of an appropriate response. "If it pleases you; I will keep such talks outside."

"Thank you." He said then returned to his original seat.

Reading proved to be a fruitless endeavor after Annie's incident with Vignar and he went back to his room where upon entering he indiscriminately tossed his book is some vague corner and plopped down on his bed in contemplation. One arm rested on his chest and the other was over his forehead. Somewhere deep down inside of his mind he felt that somehow Annie was the catalyst for some unforeseen happenings that were about to occur that felt most unsavory.

He pondered over her once again and tried to draw whatever deductions he could from it. Annie obviously was an educated person. Perhaps, potentially one of the most educated people he has ever met. She had said when he first met her that she had an intimate knowledge of alchemy, but what of the arcane arts? She carried a staff but she had yet made no display of that field. Not that it was exactly accepted to use magic within the city walls, but she hadn't made even the tiniest of harmless demonstrations. She was well read in literature and endeavored to engage in the frustrating matter that was politics. All of that together made Annie what exactly? Vilkas didn't know but it forced him to question why she was really there. In Jorrvaskr. There surely must be an underlying intention that he was not seeing that only Annie knew about.

His thoughts became to cluttered and so he took a seat at his personal desk, grabbed his journal and tore a page out if to record what he could gather of the Altmer that so persistently resided in his mind. Where to start was a more complicated matter than he would have believed before he began so he started with what first came to mind.

Friends – Two; Farkas and a nameless Khajiit that she had mentioned only once thus far.

Family – Unknown thus far. Most likely will avoid the question if asked.

Origins – Unknown if born in Skyrim or anywhere else on the Continent. Unknown if born on The Summerset Ilse.

Aedra/Daedra/Other – Unknown thus far. Quite possible she may not adhere to any or many when convenient. Religion's a complicated or (most likely) an irrelevant matter.

Politics – Seems to dabble, but largely inconclusive at this point.

Education – Based on the average seen throughout Skyrim, seems to have a highly above average education. Claims to have attended the College of Winterhold at some point. Why did she leave?

Occupation/Hobbies – Polymath. Has a love for alchemy and magic, but is also a competent fighter. Peak skills yet unknown. Her hobbies and profession seem intimately interconnected.

Vilkas leaned back in his chair, holding the sheet of paper close to his face and laughed. He felt his intrigue for Annie was certainly absurd. He stood from his seat and with the paper still in his hands went to a lit candle where he held the paper over it but stopped just short enough not to burn it. He held it over the small flame for just a minute before pulling his arm back and instead set the sheet of paper inside of his journal where he would build upon his notes later.

He huffed out a sigh and said out loud to nothing but the emptiness of his bedroom, "I do not know what your motivations are An'Aloriander. But, I beg that you do not bring destruction upon us."


	4. Addict

Sorry for the delay of this chapter but between doing drawings in my sketchbook and xbox - I hadn't put forth the time to finish this chapter until now. And, once again I had the same problem that with everything I wanted to include in this chapter, I couldn't put everything because it would have been to long. But, now I can say confidently that the next chapter will have what I have been meaning to write two chapters ago.

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Once upon a dreary time that Annie could only remember hazily as if she were looking through a thick and misty fog; she had at one time somehow found herself treading through the northern mountains of Skyrim. She couldn't recall any rhyme or reason for what she was doing or where she was going. She didn't have a plan or destination. All she knew was she was just there. Walking, breathing, and existing - as she made her way through the snow covered rocks of the mountain that were most unforgiving as her hands grew cold and numb from the gushing winds that pierced through her snow covered cloths and chilled her body. Her face stung, her eyes were watering and her body felt stiff, but she kept going until she came across a great chasm in the rocks.

She remembered stopping just for a moment to gaze up at the ominous structure passed the wind and snow that darkened it to a silhouette. The jagged rocks that protruded up and inwards on both sides looked to her like the mouth of some great beast constructed by one of the Daedric lords or a carnivorous plant waiting to snap shut violently on any who were foolish enough to set a foot inside of its monstrous maw. To Annie – she found this thought rather comforting and it was there where she decided she would stay until the morning sun she remembered thinking.

Slowly she approached the chasm and slowly she saw the yellow glare from the base of a lantern streaming out from the distance and throwing a shifting radiance across the howling, snow-filled, winds. Annie hadn't an idea of who it was ahead of her or what they would do when they reached her. She had no energy to quickly find a place to hide and nor did she have the energy to care. She decided she would succumb to whatever fate awaited her.

What first appeared as disembodied shadows manifested into Imperial soldiers walking alongside of Stormcloaks in chains. There was something eerie and ghostlike in the procession of faces which shuffled passed as they struggled to walk through the snow – sad, defeated, stubborn and haggard were the faces of the Stormcloaks whose lips were cracked, eyes baggy and hair caked with snow.

Annie remembered one of the Imperials grabbing her arms - startling her slightly – and then shouting something. She couldn't remember what he said – now days, she remembered it sounding like a howling pig. All she remembered clearly was lines of yellow teeth and a stubble freckled chin over a fuzzy background of cold wind and white snow. She must have understood, because she remembered saying something back and the Imperial soldier gestured to one of the others where he handed him a cloak and a loaf of bread. He had shoved the items in her arms and went about his way leaving Annie standing in a stupor with a thick fur cloak and a single loaf of bread in her arms.

Shaking her head, Annie waved a hand through her hair and scratched the back of her head to rid the memory from her thoughts and pushed it back where it belonged.

Silently she cursed herself for her withdrawals always brought with them a black mood and black memories. Luckily, her mood will soon be fixed. The Kahjiit Caravan's had made their stop outside of the city walls and Annie had intended to capitalize on the moment. She and Ri'saad have had a long and lasting understanding of one another and Ri'saad was always happy to do business with her.

Currently she and Ri'saad were sitting in his lavishly decorated tent where therein was a considerable collection of valuable curiosities and the carpet on which they sat was so soft and so thick that when she first sat down her butt sank pleasantly into it, as into a bed of moss. It was quiet save for the small sounds of clanking glass as Ri'saad fumbled through a medium sized leather bag and silently mumbled to himself. Annie's head pounded like a drum and she felt a growing impatience but she guarded herself for the Khajiit sitting in front of her has always shown her kindness.

He was generally kind to most he met. His story was long and complicated which his graying hair demonstrated. No one would guess as such. He was a wealthy cat with masterful skill and experience in his trade; but to any who knew him they knew otherwise. He was an outcast even to his own people and when Annie Learned of this she felt for the first time a kindred spirit within another.

"How's business, Ri'saad?" Annie asked so she could distract herself from her aching head.

His ears twitched. He looked up at her, tucked his dreads behind one of his ears while grazing for an answer before peering back down and saying, "Business has been steady." His voice was low and deep much like most male khajiit. It was almost sobering.

"Oh?"

"Yes. The Thieves Guild has been growing as of late and they pay good money for us to transport their wares; just as long as we ensure to pay them their cut of the money which Ri'saad believes is more than fair."

"That surprises me, Ri'saad. With the war and the weather, I would have imagined quite the opposite." Annie started to rub her hands together hard and tightly.

"Aloriander; This One thought you had a little more confidence in us than that. The war is irrelevant to us. We care not for either side and we take care to avoid them – especially the Thalmor. Ri'saad is relieved to see that they still do not march in these parts of Skyrim." There was a great irony in Ri'saad's discontent with the Almeri Dominion. His and Annie's people once fought side by side with one another many centuries ago alongside the Bosmer. But, times were different now. People were more polarized and the Aldmeri Dominion was no longer what it once was.

"Here we go." Ri'saad said as he pulled out three bottles of dark purple liquid from the bag along with one bigger bottle with a liquid of lighter colour inside. "Three bottles of Skooma and a bottle of Sleeping Tree Sap." He sat the bottles close to her and she handed him a small bag of what remained of her money. It wasn't a lot but it was enough to pay for her items.

Ri'saad opened the bag and inspected the contents therein and said, "You know, for an alchemist this one is surprised that you do not make Skooma yourself. It may help your personal economy."

"Try to make Skooma without the proper tools and materials. Let me know how much you make in the end."

Ri'saad chuckled under his breath. "More of your Altmer sarcasm? Or is it the withdrawals talking? I see it is stronger in you than before."

"Doesn't matter."

Sleeping Tree Sap was her poison of choice when she wasn't in a working fit. It helped to lift the weight of her thoughts which in turn made her feel much lighter. She popped the cork to the jar and tipped it over under her finger tip. She placed her finger in her mouth and scrubbed it hard against her gums. She repeated this ritual over and over until she began to feel that which she sought; weightlessness and euphoria. She sat still, leaning back against her hands with her head lifted back and her eyes closed. A smile forced itself upon her for she could not contain it. It just floated into existence. She was well aware that these concoction's influence was physically a bad one but she found it so transcendently stimulating and clarifying for her mind that she cared not for the consequences it could bear on her health.

Ri'saad sat cross legged with an arm over his lap and his hand placed on his knee as he watched this process as he had done times before. He usually never cared for what people chose to do with his Skooma but even he did not use it in the degree that Annie did.

"How are things, Annie?" He asked.

Annie slowly opened her eyes at the question. "Bearable. The Companions have accepted me and I have no intentions of leaving at the present time."

"The Companions have accepted you?" Ri,saad asked and tilted his head to the side. He thought for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps this is a blessing for you. Who knows, perhaps you may also find yourself a lover among them." Annie laughed. "Is something funny?"

"Honestly Ri'saad! Me – a lover? Please."

"Yes! You walk your life all alone. It is a life that I myself know well, and one I do not enjoy. I do not see how you do not seek the comforts of another's affections."

"Let me tell you something, my friend." Annie leaned forward and pointed at him. "Love is an infectious thing. I see it as little more than the byproduct of the Black Condition. It has no place in this world. Love – from all that I have observed - can lead people to madness and sorrow. I have seen it happen. I have tested it."

"Are you referring to your incident at the College?"

For a moment Annie was silent. _"Annie please, make it stop! I can't tell what is and what isn't anymore!"_

"Hardly." Annie said with a bit of embitterment. "To help you further understand." Annie cleared her throat. "My older sister fell victim to this infection called love. She met someone, the courted for a time and they married for the love they claim to have. People cheered and applauded them, but they failed to see what will happen because they are so narrow sighted. Would you like to know what they didn't see?" Ri'saad swiped his hand prompting her to continue. "They failed to see consequences of their love. The things that they would never be able to do. The things that may become of them if some tragedy were to strike. If my sister, my brother-in-law, or their contemptuous son were to suddenly die. The others could go mad with grief. Lose themselves in their misery. All because they decided to fall in love."

"Do you not love your sister?" Annie didn't answer and a frown showed itself on Ri'saad's face. "It is a shame you should think that way. Love can lead to many good roads. Certainly there's someone in the world that you love."

"Ri'saad!" Annie said with a patronizing laugh. "The most desirable man I've ever heard about was a sinister necromancer in the second era who wanted to over throw Molag Bal and remake the world in his image. And, the most winning woman in my mind slaughtered her own children by the commands of an entity most enigmatic."

Through hardened brows Ri'saad looked at her. From the day he first met Annie years ago he had always thought that she was a strange one, even for an Altmer, and this only strengthened his conviction. "On this – This One believes we will have to agree to disagree. Now then; will there be anything else?"

"No, that is all." Annie said as she grabbed her newly acquired goods and packed them in her satchel. "See you around, Ri'saad." She leaned forward and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

"To you as well, old friend."

In juxtaposition to the last few weeks that day stood out. Blue skies greeted Annie as she stepped out from Ri'saad's tent and puffy clouds casted shadows across the land. The air was still yet still very chilly. Snow crunched beneath her boots with each step and she could see her breath with each exhalation. Sunlight reflected from the snow covered walls and buildings of the city and it was almost blinding. Her headache had subsided to a faint, dull throb and so the sunlight was tolerable.

She wasn't yet able to tolerate people as of yet and wanted to do nothing more than to lay in her bed and wait for noon. Kids ran to and from across the streets of Whiterun, playing their games and throwing snowballs whilst making sure not to hit any passersby who may be unfortunate enough to catch a feisty snowball to the face. The market place was not the busiest that Annie could expect of it, but the citizens of the city walked around dressed in their warm winter clothes crowding the city streets a bit more than she would have liked.

Her movements were slow yet controlled. In her euphoric bliss she found it easy to navigate through the crowds of people like a dancer in a stage play. She could still feel the trailing of eyes across her being as she walked. A High Elf in Whiterun was certainly a sight to behold to these Nords. None said anything to her, and Annie believed it was mostly out of fear. By now, the whole city knew of the Altmer mage that had gone into their city and Nords were very suspicious of magic. Annie (for the most part) was content with this.

She was at the front doors of Jorrvaskr and she pushed them open where therein she found them gathered around in the main hall. In the center of all the commotion there stood a man, dressed in the same kind of armor that Kodlak and Vilkas wore. Annie placed him in his late forties, for his hair was grayed and his hairline had greatly receded, yet he sported a small pony tail in the back. His face was strong and showed a modicum of youth left within the warrior. He took notice of Annie walking into Jorrvaskr and Annie then saw his left eye was but a milky white void where a scar crossed over his brow and down his cheek.

Standing next to the scarred warrior was a young, beautiful, red headed, Nord woman who looked no older or younger than Annie which to her placed this woman in her early thirties. Her armor was not meant for close range and allowed more freedom of movement. Tone and definition showed on the woman's arms and her legs which Annie felt alluring.

"Was the bear really that huge?"

"How did you kill it?"

"By the Gods, I wish I was there!"

The obtrusive assault of questions and comments did not deter the two. Instead they relished them for they smiled and answered with egocentric enthusiasm. What the others failed to see that was very obvious to Annie was the way these to fighters looked at one another. Quick as they were with mastered subtly; they were not enough to keep Annie from seeing that these two were indeed lovers. More victims of the Black Condition.

"Annie!" Ria shouted. She ran over to her, grabbed her hand and excitedly said, "You have to meet Skjor and Aela!" Ria dragged Annie to the rest of the group. Skjor and Aela scrutinized the elf as she sneered at Ria and straightened out her clothes, though Ria didn't notice.

"So," Aela started. "you're the new comer I've heard."

"That should be the conclusion. When you left all was the same; then you come back to see an unfamiliar face."

"Bold words. Just like Vilkas said!" Skjor laughed.

"Vilkas mentioned me, did he?"

"Certainly did." Aela replied. "The moment we stepped foot inside he told us a little of you. It's good to see your face healed up nicely. It's hardly noticeable."

Annie rolled her eyes. "Yes, well it comes as no surprise to me that he should bring me up. He appears to have a habit of doing that. But, alas there are no secrets that can hide that I will not find."

"Is that a fact?" Aela asked crossing her arms with a smirk.

"Indeed." Annie responded whilst giving Aela a sharp stare that made her feel uncomfortable. Aela felt exposed – open.

"Well I hope you can fight as well as you boast." Skjor injected. "I am interested to see just what you can do."

"Many things, but that is a whole other matter. Now, if you'll pardon me – I have an outing with Farkas here in a little bit and must change into something cleaner."

"Then please, do not let us keep you." Aela said politely.

Annie walked away towards the stairs and into the lower level. When she reached the room where she and the other 'whelps' slept she was pleased to see it was only her and locked the door behind her so she could not be interrupted.

She never bothered to find any storage space for any of her belongings and instead elected to live out of her satchel. She dropped it on her bed and rummaged through it until she found the outfit that she would be wearing for the occasion. It was much like the one she was already wearing but this one was made out of silk with a fantastic dark shade of purple. She also had a pair of dark leather boots to match it that were rolled up inside of her satchel. She did enjoy matching.

She set her outfit on her bed and began to undress. She started with her boots. She sat down, untied them and sat them next to her bed after she removed them. She rubbed both of her feet briefly before standing back up to remove her robes. When she was standing in only her smalls she opened her satchel up to place her old outfit inside of it but before she could she saw the Skooma and Sleeping Tree Sap inside.

Slowly she placed her cloths on the bed next to the ones she was going to change into and grabbed a vile of Skooma from her Satchel. She turned it over in her hand and stared at it in contemplation. In all of her years as a user and as an alchemist she had never done Sleeping Tree Sap and Skooma at the same time. Annie wondered at the prospects of such a mix and made a decision. She undid the cork and administered the drug in the exact same fashion as she did with the Sleeping Tree Sap then continued to change.

Farkas was in his room going through his wardrobe. Vilkas was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in a gruff manner.

"Brother. You are not into her are you?" Vilkas asked.

"No." He answered while removing his armour. "We're friends." That did little to alleviate the worry in Vilkas's mind.

"Just be cautious." Farkas did not say anything as he continued changing. Vilkas stood up from the wall and paced back and forth. "I have a bad feeling about her brother. I feel like there is something very chaotic and dark within her."

"Don't worry. It's probably nothing."

A knock came from outside of Farkas's door. Farkas sniffed the air and told them to come in. Kodlak entered slowly and peaked through. He looked back and forth between Farkas and Vilkas before entering then closed the door. "Going out, Farkas?"

"Lunch with Annie."

"Good, good. Good to see someone's warming up to her." Kodlak finished with a smile. "Anyway, I came in here to tell you guys that we may have a job coming up soon." Vilkas perked up in anticipation but Kodlak raised his hand before he could say anything. "Hold on son. I still do not have all of the details I need and this seems to be a very sensitive matter. Politically speaking. And, I believe that we still have a member among us who still has yet to prove to us that she can stand by with us."

Vilkas slumped his shoulders in disappointment for he understood very well of the circumstances that pervaded them. "Don't worry, son." Kodlak slapped his hand on Vilkas's shoulder. "If we do take this job, I think you should go with Annie. You've been cooped up in here for weeks and I know your itching for work." Kodlak smirked then nodded.

"Thank you, Harbinger!" Vilkas said. Kodlak was on his way out of the room when Vilkas asked, "If I may, Kodlak? What makes this job so sensitive as you put it."

Kodlak stopped just by the door. He tried to think of an easy way to answer but none came to mind. "Well, the particulars of this job is that the antagonists are the Aldmeri Dominion."

* * *

I would like to comment that I think this sight needs a better system for messaging readers. I would have liked to keep those of you who like this story in the loop about its status when I am not writing but having to go through each individual person would be to tedious in my opinion.

Anyway. This is where I leave you for now and I will be back with chapter 5.


	5. Chaotic

This chapter was a lot of fun to write. The first half of this chapter I had not planned until I began to write it. It just sort of made since to me and I am glad that I did. The latter half of the chapter is what I have been wanting to write two chapters ago but, as you all know it didn't happen. But, now its here and I can't wait to see what you all think of it. The next chapter the story will finally begin to move forward so keep a look out.

* * *

North of Whiterun, in the College of Winterhold a most peculiar situation was taking place. Arch Mage Sigmund, successor of Arch Mage Savos Aren, was a man of highly meticulous order. Every book, had its own place on the shelf. No other book shall be placed in that spot should that book be out of it and said book must always be put back in the same place when finished with it. The garden that sat within its hexagonal radius in the middle of his room must always be tended too during the same hours every day. Every jar; every alchemical ingredient, every chair, barrel, chest and gem had a place and no other force be they of Aedra or Daedra, had the authority to say otherwise.

Sigmund has a special chair in which he sat every day to read. It was of sturdy ivory wood with glistening red leather on the seat arms and back for comfort. No one else was allowed to sit in for it was his seat alone. Not even his two apprentices were allowed to sit in it ever! So when Thalmor Justiciar Vancalmo arrived without notice or appointment with four dominion soldiers at his back and sat in his chair with statecraft authority the only words that went through his ever busy mind was, _"Officious, self-entitled, Skeever!"_

Fortunately for him he learned how to handle when things broke his order when he was a child. Usually this entailed tapping his fingers or his foot; clasping his hands together and entwining his fingers so he may twirl his thumbs. But, there was involuntary actions as well that Sigmund had taken note of. Such as the twitch in his left eye when he was annoyed. The way he scratched his head every so often or under his neck.

Justiciar Vancalmo held a stack of dossiers in his lap in the typical red folders that the Dominion seem to favor. His black hood was down, his light blonde hair was long and tied in a ponytail. His face, while handsome, was narrow and long which when every time he smiled his smug smile his skin looked stretched to the brink. He sat in Sigmund's chair, comfortable, confident and collected. He sipped at the wine that Sigmund had offered with small little sips and savored the taste. "This is excellent!" Vancalmo complimented holding up the glass of wine. "Not surprising. Any persons with Mer in their blood always tend to have excellent tastes." He set his glass down and asked, "Tell me; do all Bretons have the same tastes as you?"

"No." Sigmund replied in a monotone. "Only the ones who have to deal with the likes of the Thalmor every once and again." The speed of his foot tapping increased and he focused his stare at his fingers which tapped at the arm of the chair in which he sat.

Vancalmo sat back, rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and sat in cheek in his palm. He added a small smile for insult. "Do I make you nervous?"

A small patronizing laugh burst from Sigmund. "Not even in the most minute fraction."

"I see." He replied in a smooth and collected tone but Sigmund had noticed the sudden disappearance of his smug smile. Vancalmo opened the first dossier on his lap, took another sip of his wine and then said, "That is a little unfortunate because while we have a fair enough of data on you we do not have anything of real importance. You've taken great care to insure that we do not obtain anything that would make you vulnerable to us haven't you." Sigmund smiled as if he had received a compliment for a fine job. "I'd narrow this down to acute paranoia and distrust brought on by a previous high stress encounter." Vancalmo finished off condescendingly.

"That is hardly relevant. I made it very clear to the Dominion when I became Arch Mage what happened with Ancano."

"Yes." Vancalmo shifted through the papers in Sigmund's dossier with his fingers in mastered succession achieved through years as a practiced interrogator before becoming Justiciar and produced a smaller sheet of paper. "I have a copy of your testimony right here. I have studied it and this brings me to the reason why I am here." Sigmund said nothing and waited. "In your testimony, you brought up the name An'Aloriander a number of times."

Sigmund's eyebrow twitched. "Again, that should not be relevant. Though Aloriander was here she hadn't any involvement with what happened and neither was she here at the time when the issue with Ancano was resolved."

"I am aware. You wanted to make a public statement to insure to the people that any incident here had been dealt with. But, I want to talk about Aloriander specifically.

"Why? I made everything clear in my testimony."

Vancalmo coughed to brush off Sigmund's statement. "Let's see here, in your testimony you said that the incident with Aloriander took place weeks before the death of Ancano that ended with the tragic death of a student." Sigmund nodded in confirmation. "After which she was expelled from the college with no charges brought against her until after she had already left. Why?"

"She was well respected." Sigmund sighed.

"So she was popular."

"No. She was respected. There's a difference. She was respected for her brilliance and mastery in magic involving alteration and illusions. She was also a quick study. A fellow student – A Khajiit we called Lux taught her a spot of Alchemy which she soon had taken to heart. So when she killed her classmate my predecessor gave her time to run before he informed the Jarl."

"I see. And, do you know where she is now?"

"No. Aloriander didn't care to say much to others other than Lux. If she told anyone of her potential whereabouts it would be him, but I do not know where he is either. He had fled not long after Aloriander had left. He stayed long enough to help against Ancano. After that, we hadn't seen or heard of him since."

"That is too bad." Replied Vancalmo stoically.

"If you are permitted to tell me; why are you looking for her? None of us have seen or heard from her in a long while. Why are you just now interested in this?"

Shifting through his stack of dossiers, Vancalmo pulled one out from the stack and replaced Sigmund's at the top of the stack. "It isn't me that is looking for her per say, but someone 'is' looking for her and wants her brought back to Summerset. We have almost everything we need to find her." He held up the red folder that he had pulled out from the stack. "We have everything. Her real name, date of birth, her age, description, history and hobbies. Everything we need to identify her. All we need now is her location. We know she is here in Skyrim; but we need to know where."

Leaning up in his seat, Sigmund in a more condescending tone said, "Well I suggest you start looking. Skyrim is a big place. She could be anywhere."

Vancalmo sighed and said, "I wish you would be more cooperative. She did kill a student after all and as we were informed Aloriander isn't one to feel guilty for her actions. Do you not understand the magnitude of this? Who knows how many more people she could potentially kill. With her lack of empathy, I doubt she has learned from her incident here."

"It certainly sounds like you have your hands full then." Vancalmo wore a scornful expression. "These matters with Aloriander are not my or the college's problem anymore. We've washed our hands of her. This meeting is over. Get out."

Sigmund stood from his seat. "Sit down!" Vancalmo ordered. "We're not done here."

"I'm afraid we are. I've nothing to contribute to your investigation."

"Oh, you don't? Well isn't that lovely." Vancalmo exclaimed in a rhetorical tone as Sigmund made for the door but Vancalmo's men held their spears out crossing each other's to keep him from leaving. "Do you know what the penalties are for letting a criminal escape?" Vancalmo got up from his seat and slowly stepped closer to Sigmund who didn't turn to face him. "I'd hate to inform you that you have admitted to a felony of which I could have you arrested for. So either you cooperate or you can say good bye to your position as Arch Mage and spend the next couple of years locked in chains in a cramped cell."

"I'm a Breton." Sigmund said as he turned. "My life is longer than that of any other race of men. I'm sure I can handle a few years in a dungeon."

"Wait!" Vancalmo stepped even closer. "Maybe imprisonment isn't the best motivation." He grabbed the lapels of Sigmund's robes and straightened his cloths and dusted off his shoulders. "No. I think we have something we can persuade you with. As you are no doubt aware of we High Elves are born arcane masters."

"I know it."

"So as an Altmer and an officer of the Almeri Dominion - I have access to certain documents pertaining to magic not seen in well over a thousand years that are as of now, incomplete." Vancalmo circled around Sigmund with his hands behind his back. "I can easily acquire them and allow you to study them. Surely a man of your genius in the field of magic could use such knowledge."

Sigmund paced slowly back in forth in contemplation before he said, "You can assure this?"

"Absolutely." Vancalmo replied with a grin.

"Okay, I want that in writing and proof read first by someone of my appointment and secondly by someone of yours, preferably a superior – say First Emissary Elenwen? I want the signatures of all who will know of this agreement signed on the document and I want at least three copies. One for me, yourself and your superior."

Vancalmo walked back to his chair, grabbed the bottle of wine standing on the table next to it and poured himself another drink. "No." Vancalmo said taking a sip. "I cannot allow for any legalities or authority figures to know of my goings on."

"What?" Sigmund said with hardened brows.

"This investigation is off the record. I am operating on my own devices. My superiors do not know about it. And, these men are loyal to me. I can trust they will not speak of what we are doing."

For a brief moment Sigmund stood in silence before he began to pace and rube a hand over his springy hair and blew out a gust of wind. He found himself in a deliciously complicated spot. His freedom was at risk but not so much his life. He discovered that he was in a perfect position that if they wanted to use him as a tool then the Thalmor would have to earn his utility.

"Okay then, Vancalmo. If you do not want to abide to the requests that I have made, then how about this. Prove to me that the documents of which you speak actually exist. I want to see them and I want to see if they really do possess forgotten magic as you claim." He turned his head enough to see Vancalmo from his peripherals. "Is that agreeable to you?" Silence followed. "Vancamlo?" Sigmund sneered.

"You're deliberately making this difficult." Vancalmo said in resignation. "It will take a few weeks but yes I can do that for you at the very least if it will tip the scale into our favor."

"Good." Sigmund threw on a patronizing smile of his own this time. "Now by Oblivion, get out. The less I see of you the more persuaded I will be in helping you find Aloriander."

"As you wish." Vancalmo said before taking a bow and left Sigmund's room and the college with his men.

Sigmund walked over to his desk and took a seat. He heard his bedroom door open again but he heard only one set of footsteps and they were light with a woman's touch. It was Faralda – one of two of his assistants. She found him leaned back in his chair at his desk tapping at the surface with his index finger.

She took a deep breath then calmly asked, "How'd it go?"

He laughed quietly. "You should refrain from asking stupid questions Faralda, especially when the answer is very obvious. You're better than that."

"What did they want?" Faralda asked as she pulled up a seat next to him and sat down. "I can only assume that in your perspective it isn't good."

He laughed quietly again. "It seems our old friend Aloriander has gotten herself into more trouble, and the Thalmor want me to help them find her."

"Doesn't surprise me." She chimed with a chuckle. "After what she did here I figured it only be a matter of time before she did something stupid again. It must have been something really bad this time if the Thalmor are after her."

"You took the words right out of my head." He said without looking at her and only stared fixedly at the wall.

"Would you like me to get something for you?" She asked placing a delicate hand on his shoulder and gently giving it a squeeze.

"No." He replied. "Not at the moment. You can go." Faralda closed her eyes and gave a nod with a small smile. He was left alone to think and the only words that came to his mind were, _"What have you done Aloriander?"_

Back at Whiterun, Annie was doing little more than enjoying a drink with Farkas inside of the Bannered Mare. The place was not packed to capacity but full none the less for it was lunchtime. Citizens of the city ate with their children, significant others and comrades. Warriors gathered around the fire in the middle of room to share drinks and stories all of whom were adorned in different styles of protective outfits from clunky and heavy steal to light and comfortable leather and cloth.

They had not been away from Jorrvaskr for too long. Annie hadn't even finished her first drink and she intended to drink a lot. She didn't have a problem; she had enough of those already. She believed it was the Skooma, Sleeping Tree Sap mix that was causing her great thirst. Though she was very relaxed and her head felt like it was floating with the clouds; she couldn't keep herself from grinding her teeth and her jaw began to grow stiff. Her efforts to stop it were in vain. Her foot was also rapidly tapping the ground and she was biting her nails.

Farkas just now took notice of it. He hadn't seen Annie act in such a manner before. She kept looking around the room as if expecting something to jump out at her and she kept licking her lips. "Annie are you okay?"

Annie was behind. She had heard but did not realize he was talking to her at first. She blinked to re-shift her focus. "What? I'm sorry I wasn't pah – paying attention."

He cleared his throat. "I asked if you're doing okay."

"Of course I am. Do not be absurd. I'm fine. I am doing fine; just fine."

"Not to me. You look…" Farkas shook his head as he though briefly. "nervous."

Annie laughed. "Oh Farkas. You are a dear, but I should let you know that I am never na - nervous about anything. I'm just 'overstimulated.'" Annie saw confusion spread on his looks. "I have a lot on my mind. A lot of great ideas, mostly about what to do with my Gildergreen problem as well as alternative applications for my particular skills of magic."

"Can you show me?" Farkas asked after a moment of weighing the question in his head.

"What? Magic?" She asked wide eyed and he nodded. She sat back in her chair with a smirk. She crossed her legs and though of something simple yet exciting. After a short moment of looking around she set her eyes upon Farkas's tankard. She raised an eyebrow and threw on a one sided smirk.

Seconds went away and Farkas sat in confusion until he began to notice the tankard in his hand begin to vibrate. Slowly, he let go of it and sat back. It started small as tiny beads of foam lifted into the air by some invisible force. Annie sat forward with her head in her palm with half lidded eyes and a smirk. She was so calm. Following the beads of foam, slightly bigger bubbles of mead followed until all of it lifted itself out of the cup at first in a wave on one side of the cup like one that one might see at the ocean. It swirled and formed into a ball until all of the mead was no longer sitting inside of the cup and was floating in midair just above it.

Farkas looked around and was struck astonished that no one in the entire bar had yet noticed the spectacle taking place before him. He huffed a smile on his face and inched his index finger towards the floating ball of mead. His finger protruded into the inside of it and he could feel a small current within it push against his finger like a gentle wind. He was amazed - he had been in the Companions his entire life and had seen his share of magic made to destroy but he had never seen it used like this in such a simple and harmless form.

With a simple wink of her eye; Annie undid her magic and the mead dropped back into the tankard without spilling so much as a single drop of it. Farkas leaned back again and stared at his drink before he looked at Annie with a grin that showed a kind of childish excitement. Annie was still resting her head on her palm and a subtle flutter of pride filled her head at what she had just accomplished with such a simple trick of magic.

"How did you do that?"" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"Telekinesis." She said pointing her head. "It's pretty standard for most mages to learn. Its origins come from the School of Alteration – the manipulation of reality and natural forces. Telekinesis is very useful for training a mages mind. It shows us how to truly hone our minds to a razor sharp point. If we are able to make things happen to the real world by simply thinking it, then our minds have reached a level of concentration that makes our magic much more potent."

"That's…" Farkas was cut off and his eyes looked passed Annie's shoulders and his expression because suspicious and contemptuous. Annie looked behind her shoulder and saw the target for Farkas's predatory glare. A woman with a strong chin and red hair had just walked in. She was dressed in a very refined form of steal armor. A large sword sat strapped to her back. She passed glances with Annie and Farkas with apathetic green eyes and Annie had spotted two scars across her cheek like a wild animal had attacked her some time ago.

She said not a single word to either of them and simply sat down at an isolated little table beneath the second tier of the room where the shadow shielded her from any care and worry that may have followed her in. The bar maid asked her what she could get for her and the woman had ordered a whole bottle of wine. She gave the maid a conservative amount of coin for it and the maid tucked it away beneath her apron and went to get her wine.

"Stay clear of that one." Said Farkas darkly.

"What? Why?"

"She used to be a Companion. Her name is Uthgerd. She ended up getting kicked out." Farkas was talking in hushed tones and he hunched over and tensed up like a predator protecting its territory.

"For what?" Annie whispered.

"For killing a fellow Companion."

Annie was taken to back inside her mind. _"You Monster! Haven't you a soul! How could you do such a thing! Why didn't you try to stop it!"_ Annie shook her head to rid herself of the voices of her memory. She promptly stood up and walked over to Uthgerd. Farkas whispered questions to her as she left asking what she thought she was doing but she didn't answer. He grabbed her sleeve but she jerked her arm from him and she sat down across the table from Uthgerd where she started a conversation with her. Farkas huffed and took a big gulp from his tankard.

If he had the mind too, he could turn his attention to what they were talking about. He would be able to hear it but he had a distinct feeling within his belly that Annie would not appreciate that very much and refrained from doing so and contented himself with sitting there while Annie and Uthgerd chatted on.

He didn't have to wait too long - little more than ten minutes passed when he heard Uthgerd shout, "What!" he turned just in time to see Uthgerd swiftly get up from her seat and smack Annie hard across the face. She fell and rolled onto the floor. The bar had shifted to a halt with the sudden commotion. Annie grunted and lifted herself up with her elbows when she rubbed her face. Farkas ran to her side, shifted his hands under her arms and lifted her up.

"Are you alright?" Farkas asked.

Annie was still rubbing her face. "You know, I am real sick and tired of this!"

"Come on, Annie." Farkas urged.

"No Farkas!" Annie argued. "Everywhere I go I get assaulted and I am sick of it. I will not stand for it."

She turned and fiercely pointed her finger towards Uthgerd. "You are a fool, my friend! AS FAR AS I AM CONERNED, YOU'RE A…" Annie broke into a loud orgy of swears and slurs directed towards Uthgerd. She clenched her hands into fists and flailed them into the air; she slapped the table a number of times as she screamed.

Annie stopped for a moment to face the onlookers and said, "I'm sorry – I am sorry to use those words! I know it isn't okay say those things in public, okay. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She turned back to Uthgerd. "BUT YOU – YOU ARE A…" Annie's face turned red and vanes bulged from her neck and forehead. Her hand took a claw like form and she jumped up and down as she shouted on and Uthgerd stood there looking angry on the verge of frenzy with her hands on her hips.

"DO YOU HEAR ME!" Annie had finished and Farkas thought he could breathe a sigh of relief. He didn't know however that the bar owner had left to inform the guards. Annie grabbed the wine bottle from Uthgerd's table and dumped the contents therein all over her. She slammed the bottle down and tackled Uthgerd into the table where it collapsed under their combined weight.

Uthgerd punched Annie against the face and stood up. She grabbed underneath the back of Annies thighs, lifted her up and ran. Uthgerd shouted as she moved and threw Annie onto the bar counter. Annie grunted as her back painfully hit the edge of the bar counter. She grunted again when she felt Uthgerd's elbow strike her belly repeatedly. Annie grabbed onto her arm to stop the attack then landed a punch of her own onto Uthgerd then another one which caused her to back up.

The crowed backed away to give the women room to fight. Annie grabbed a silver plate from the bar counter and swung it downwards towards Uthgerd's head but she held up her arm to block it. This did not stop Annie from trying for she with such ferocity swung the plate down against Uthger's arm again and again with fervent furry.

It stopped when Uthgerd finally managed to grab hold of Annie's arm and pull her in. Uthgerd wrapped her arm around her head and threw several punches to Annie's face. Uthgerd unraveled her arm, grabbed hold of the collar to Annie's shirt. She was about to throw a devastatingly heavy punch but Annie jumped and tightly locked her legs trapping Uthgerds neck. She used Uthgerds out stretched arm for support which was failing under Annie's weight and so she retracted one leg and planted a mighty stomp to Uthgerd's temple.

With zeal the guards marched in and separated the women. The guards pinned them both to the ground and held to each of their wrists so that there was little they could do but struggle. Both ladies were bruised and bleeding from her lips and noses. Annie had suffered a cut to her brow from which blood oozed.

"Alright pick them up and take them away." Ordered the guard in charge.

"Come on, up!" Ordered one of the two handling the girls. Both of the girls were pulled up to their feet and marched out of the Bannered Mare and to the Dragonsreach Dungeon.

"Companion!" The guard said to Farkas.

"Yes."

"Can you explain to me what happened here?"

"My friend and fellow Companion talked with Uthgerd. I don't know what was said, but Uthgerd threw the first punch."

"I see. They both will be spending the night inside Dragonsreach Dungeon Until next morning. By then they both should be fine to leave without further complications. These kinds of fights are too common for our liking. At least most of the time they take care not to break anything, but here." The guard and Farkas took in the sights of the mess left by Annie and Uthgerd. The table at which Uthgerd sat was ruined; there was wine and glass on the floor mixed in with drops of blood.

"We'll take care of it." Farkas assured.

"I'm sorry Companion but law is law Have a good rest of your day." The guard said then left.

"Yeah, you too." Farkas was a greatly confused by the whole situation but what he saw last before Annie and Uthgerd were escorted out the building confused him the most. It could have been his mind playing tricks on him and he was now more than certain that that was indeed the case. But, before they left; too Farkas he could have sworn he saw Annie and Uthgerd smiling at one another.

* * *

I have to admit that after posting this I feel a little mischievous. I had the fight scene planned almost from the start and it feels good to have written it. I also had the chance to introduce a character that was made by a friend of mine. Both he and I love Skyrim and when I told him I was going to include his character he pitched in a bit. Which is fair because it is his character.

I also want to thank all of you who have reviewed, favored, and followed this story. So, thank you all. ;)

I hope you all liked this chapter and I may began the next one this upcoming weekend. Cheers!


	6. Reliable?

Night had fallen upon them and it was quiet in the dungeon of Whiterun. No windows were ever made for the dungeons and so there was no light save for the line of light that shined passed through the bottom of the door where the guards office was just before the entrance. It was impossibly cold and Annie believed that she would be able to see her breath if there was more light. She sat leaning against the wall of her cell, her knees up to her chest and her arms around her kegs. She was resting her chin on her legs and she stared blankly at the light shining through the door and she felt a faint warmth radiate from it. She wanted to go near it for she wanted to believe her salvation lied in that light. Not the kind of salvation that a prisoner of dungeon sought but the salvation from her own personal prison. To a path of spiritual freedom.

Annie felt that the cold and lightless hallway was a perfect reflection of her own life. She had learned not to dwell on this for she saw no good come from looking to the memories of the past. Memories were treacherous things. She didn't understand why people often referenced them to look for answers when memories would soon cause despair and only serve to worsen ones otherwise trivial plights. Yet another part of the Black Condition. It was everywhere she looked. She couldn't run from it and so she never tried. Instead she had embraced The Black Condition when she learned that it was in fact the ultimate truth of life. Most people would sooner reject it before they gave it a second's contemplation because of their faith in the Aedra; or Deadra if they were so inclined.

She once held the Aedra in high regards once. Seemed like such a long time ago when last she prayed to any of them. But, for some reason the Gods always seemed too busy to be bothered whenever she went looking. She had a vast amount of more respect for the Daedra now days than she did the Aedra. For when someone sought one of them for help, even if they were holding their agenda with them, they always came. Her respect only went so far though because she had realized that both the Aedra and Daedra were still slaves to the Black Condition just as the people of Nirn were. Deny it as much as they would, the Deadra and Aedra only lived under the illusion that they had complete free will over their own eternal lives.

Almost similarly enough there was only one group of people that Annie knew about that knew this truth as well. They were in fact the Dark Brotherhood. They were the living, breathing, thinking, manifestation of the Black Condition. It's very will one could say. From what she had heard and read about, the Dark Brotherhood never dwelt on the lives they took and she felt that this was because that – like her – they were fully aware of and accepted the irrationalities of life itself thus making their targets lives inconsequential.

It just occurred to Annie how much she wanted the Sleeping Tree Sap. She had come down from her high hours ago. She silently cursed herself and banged the back of her head against the wall to forcibly stop her current line of thought.

"You doing alright back there?" Uthgerd asked with a hint of humor. She was sitting the next cell from Annie's and was too sitting against the wall with her arm settled on her knee and twiddling her fingers. She had a wet on her cheek to help against the swelling from Annie's attacks earlier.

Annie had not done the same to her wounds. Dried blood now flaked stuck to her skin under her nostrils, her bottom lip, and down a cut on her brow. There was also blood on her cloths but even if there was light it would not be readily noticeable on the purple silk if them. Her back hurt from her collision with the bar counter and it made her uncomfortable no matter which way she tried to sit.

"I'm doing splendidly." Responded Annie genuinely despite her pain.

"Hey, I have a question for you."

"What is it?" Their voices echoed in the dark and cold hall.

Uthgerd swallowed. "I've been thinking and I do not know why the question didn't come to until now but, why did you do what you did at the Bannered Mare? I mean you don't know me other than what you've heard. You had no reason to do what you did."

Annie chuckled. "It's a bit presumptuous of you to say that I had no reason."

"Then what was it?"

"Do you really care?" Annie was at odds at the thought.

Uthgerd took a deep inhale and pondered. "I suppose… it's not so much that I care so much that while it was great; I think I would spend the rest of life wondering about you if I don't know."

"I'm flattered." Annie felt a hint of pride. She couldn't recall to many people who would do that. "But, I wouldn't waste my time if I were you."

"Why?"

"Because there's no good to come of looking at the past. I find the past such a worrying - anxious place."

"Then help me understand if that's what you think."

With a sigh Annie once again looked at the light shining under the door. It was growing dimmer so that candles from which the light was coming from were beginning to die. She looked around outside of the bars as best she could and she wondered what the night looked like through the eyes of a Khajiit. How magnificent she thought it would be to walk through the dark as one does in light.

"Do you really want to know?" If Uthgerd could see Annie's face she would see Annie with a very gentle grin gracing her features.

"Yes." Uthgerd replied simply.

"Fun." Annie responded.

"Fun?" Uthgerd asked taken aback.

"That's right." If Farkas decided to listen in when the thought had infiltrated his mind he would have heard a scheme against the honor of the companions. After Annie sat down at Uthgerd's table she said, _"So I hear that you were once a member of The Companions."_

Uthgerd had shown a silent expression of disbelief at the forwardness of her statement and she immediately turned verbally hostile. _"And I see you like sleeping with them. wrench."_

" _Oh you mean Farkas and I?"_ Annie pointed back at Farkas with her thumb and laughed. _"Oh no. We're just out for a friendly outing. We're not romantically involved."_ Annie had demonstrated no contempt for what Uthgerd said which made her feel more agitated. _"The name is Aloriander or Annie to most. I'm the newest mem…"_

" _I know who you are!"_ Uthgerd had poured herself a drink. _"Everyone in the whole damned city knows. The Altmer that joined the companions. A wall that not even the most adventurous of flies would stick too. You're making a mistake of you ask me."_ Uthgerd lifted her glass to her lips.

" _I know why you must think that. But, you did kill someone."_

" _It was an accident!"_ Uthgerd said slamming her glass onto the table causing the contents therein to jump from the glass and onto the table and her hand. _"I just - who do you think you are huh? Who are you to just walk up to me so casually and speak of what had happened as if it meant nothing at all. Why can't you people just let it go?"_

" _I'm someone who can offer you redemption."_

Uthgerd leaned back and raised an eyebrow in confusion. _"Redemption? Are you out of your mind?"_

" _Actually no."_ replied Annie enthusiastically. _"I'm always in the right mind. It's everyone else who is out of their minds."_

" _What are you on about!"_

" _What I am saying is you can have a chance at getting even with them. As a member myself,"_ Annie placed her hand on her chest. _"I have the power to allow you a chance of revenge without difficulty."_

Uthgerd shook her head in disbelief and a discontented smirk. _"You must take me for some kind of fool don't you. Do you honestly believe that I would trust anything you say? You. An elf and a member of the companions."_

" _I am both of those things, yes. But do not take me as being of their same mindset. I do not adhere to their ideals. I would soon throw myself into a pack of rabid wolves. They like to restrict themselves to codes and ethics; but I am a free spirit."_ Annie tightened her hand into a fist for dramatic flair. Her words had soothed the warrior before her but Annie could still see the doubt in her eyes.

" _You cannot tell me that you haven't fantasized about vengeance? You're a Nord, and Nords are very simple people. Once you have felt that someone has wronged you in any way, form or fashion don't you typically begin to seek some kind of retribution for what happened? Isn't that an innate belief that most your kind hold dear to your hearts. I can give it to you."_ Annie leaned forward and once again placed her hand upon her chest. _"No true harm will come to you and it will be very easy."_

" _I…"_ Uthgerd was conflicted. A clear sign of an eternal struggle taking place in her head showing Annie that her words were working. _"I don't know."_

" _Look Uthgerd. This may very well be your one and only chance to get back at them in a way that will not paint you in a negative light any further."_ Uthgerd did not respond and Annie was growing impatient she was going to need more. She needed to appeal to her emotionally.

" _Listen, I know what's like to be you._ " Uthgerd looked at her. _"Before I joined The Companions I was a student at the College of Winterhold and I was good. But, one day I had an incident very similar to yours. Someone died and everyone was very quick to point fingers at me."_

" _What happened?"_

Annie's eyes grew dark. _"An experiment gone wrong. We were always told that there was no form of magic that was forbidden at the college; necromancy even. So for the sake of arcane exploration a colleague and I decided he would be a test subject for me, and when he died they told me that I was in the wrong and they blamed me for using magic so unrestrained."_

" _That must have been hard."_

" _I try not to think about it."_ Annie replied with a gentle smile. _"I like to think that I have moved on from what happened, and here I see a woman who cannot move on. You carry the weight of your guilt on your shoulders and it makes you miserable."_

" _How can you know what I feel?"_ Uthgerd took a drink.

" _When I was a girl; there was a book that I loved. I read it several times, but a problem that I had noticed about it is that the narrator was very unreliable. The author had written in such a way that the characters would tell blatant lies that the narrator would never reveal. I can only assume it was to make the characters more realistic and to convey some deeper narrative. But, I learned to look at the finer details to discern what was the truth and what wasn't. I learned how to figure out who was a lie and what was the truth and eventually I learned to apply this same method to real life because an inevitable fact we all must face is that people lie every day. Even people we know best. They lie to the people around them and to themselves. They may not even know they're doing it. So I can see when someone is hiding something that they do not wish others to know about."_

" _And you think you can help rid myself of this guilt."_

" _Not exactly, but I can help you get back at the ones that have made you feel this way."_

Scratching at the table, Uthgerd sat in thought. It wasn't until a minute had passed before she finally opened her mouth to reply.

" _Okay. What do you have in mind?"_

Annie sat up sat up straight in her seat, laced her fingers together and said, _"A fight."_

" _A fight?"_

" _Yes. I want you to fight me as if you were fighting an enemy so that it looks more believable. Do not hold back. Give me all you have and I will do the same. The guards will most likely be called and we may have to spend the night in the dungeon but that is part of the magic. For me, a member of The Companions to be thrown in jail for a public fight will make them look bad in the eyes of the public. The Companions may be quick to blame you but everyone else will be focused on them."_

" _What about you?"_

" _What about me?"_ Annie said dismissingly. _"I do not care about what people think of me. I have nothing to lose here and you have everything to gain. What do you say?"_

" _How do you think we should start this?"_

" _Improvise. Surprise me."_

It was from that point that the fight had started and their scheme was set in motion and it worked without a single flaw and they were indeed thrown into the Whiterun dungeon for the night just as Annie had predicted and where Uthgerd sat silently thinking back at it all and further.

"I still do not understand Annie. After everything you told me in the Bannered Mare, all of it was so you could have fun? Do you often engage in reckless behavior like that?"

"I do whatever makes me feel more alive." Annie's words were slow yet smooth. "Life can be so monotonous sometimes that it becomes unbearable. So I do what I can to make it more exciting."

Uthgerd laughed in agreement but she didn't fully agree. "You know; I think I have you figured out."

"Do share." Annie replied in intrigue.

"My mother had a saying. She meant it as a warning to me when I started the mercenary life. She told me that those who seek to cause anarchy for the thrill alone are those whose souls drown in the pools of their own misery and thus become soulless. So…are you such a person. Do you lack a soul?" She was answered with only silence. "Annie?" She listened for a response and heard only the faint sounds of her breathing which meant she must have fallen asleep. Uthgerd silently laughed and decided that she should do the same.

The next morning was a rude awakening for Annie. She heard the shuffling of heavy keys and the creaking of her cell door opening. She was laying on the ground huddled up tightly for warmth. When she heard the noises moaned in complaint. She held her eyes closed tightly before slowly opening them and seeing a pair of familiar boots in front of her.

"Get up!" Vilkas ordered. He was obviously very upset.

Annie got up and walked out of her cell. She looked over the next cell and witnessed Uthgerd looking about as well as Annie felt. Uthgerd's hair was a mess and her eyes were baggy.

"Well!" Vilkas held his hands on his hips and he was tapping his foot.

"Well what?" Annie responded through a yawn while rubbing her eye.

"Do you want to explain to me what in Oblivion happened yesterday? The whole damned city is talking about it!" Annie slumped her shoulders and groaned.

"It was my fault Vilkas." Uthgerd said stepping forward. "I threw the first punch."

"Really? Why does that not surprise me Uthgerd? However," He looked hard at Annie accusingly. "I'm willing to bet that you were the catalyst. So what was it? Did you step beyond your bounds? Did you say something insensitive?"

"Does it matter?" Responded Annie dismissively.

"YES IT MATTERS!" Vilkas's temper was hot. "I swear if the Old Man wasn't so sure of you, I would have you thrown out for your little stunt yesterday. For the god's sake you're still not a recognized member and you've succeeded in only stirring up rumors about The Companions judgement. I can't even imagine what will happen if we continue to have you."

"Come on Vilkas. Go easy on her." Pleaded Uthgerd.

Vilkas marched at Uthgerd. "You quiet! You've caused enough damage to The Companions as is. The last thing we need is your useless excuses." He walked back to Annie. "Come on, we're leaving." He grabbed her underneath her arm with a tight grip and they went to the exit. Annie looked back at Uthgerd with a smile and threw her a wink.

Uthgerd stood bemused. Deep down in her mind she was sure that she would like to see more of Annie in the future. Never in her life had she ever met a person, man or mer who was like she was. She was a woman without guidelines. Without restriction. Uthgerd determined that such a lifestyle was dangerous but there was freedom in it. A kind of freedom that only a select few in the whole world may only know. Uthgerd envied her and yet she still smiled and for the first in a long time she felt a since of relief from the guilt that Annie had so flawlessly witnessed. Maybe she had stumbled upon a new found friend.

Vilkas on the other hand was less than serene as he pulled Annie through the city back to Jorrvaskr in a furious march. Annie tried to pull her hand free but Vilkas's hold never wavered and tightened even more each time Annie tried to pull free.

It was not until they had reach the front doors of Jorrvaskr that he relinquished his grip on her arm and he said, "Now when you get in there, wash the blood from your face and try to look presentable."

"Why? Want to take me out on the town, Vilkas?" She joked.

"Don't get smart!" He shouted. "If you were here yesterday you would have known sooner, but a job came in and you're going to be the one to go. And, it's only because of sheer boredom that I will be accompanying you on this job."

Annie rolled her eyes. "How did I get to be so lucky." She rubbed her wrist. "What are the details?"

"You'll know as soon as you wash up. Now go and make it quick. I do not wish to keep Kodlak waiting any longer than he already has."

Annie nodded and went to the nearest wash basin she could locate inside of Jorrvaskr. She soaked a washcloth and wiped her face of every trace of dried blood that sill remained and splashed fer face with water. There was a small rectangular piece of glass next to her and she picked it up and inspected her work. She was clean and her eyes caught the sight of the cut that above her brow that Uthgerd had given her that bled plenty when she had received it. Her eyes also caught their reflection where she saw the same tired look she had worn for years. They were so different from when she was a child.

"Aloriander!" Kodlak sounded.

Annie jumped, making a squeaking sound as she did and almost dropped the mirror she was holding. She struggled to grab hold of it then finally caught it with a huffed laugh. She looked at Kodlak who himself was amused and she laughed again nervously, tucked her hair behind her ear and set the mirror down on the basin.

"Kodlak…" She swallowed. "You gave me a fright."

"I apologize. How are this morning?"

"Well I would have preferred to wake up in the comforts of a bed instead of a cold floor but what does what one can."

"Humph, I bet." Kodlak reached under Annies chin and moved her head around to get a good look at her face. Her cheek was swollen and as was her brow that had turned purple from the cut she had suffered. There was also a smaller cut on the bridge of her nose that would heal just fine without so much as a scar to be left behind.

"I hope you gave Uthgerd as good a fight as she appears to have given you." He said with a soft smile.

"Well," Annie shrugged her shoulders. "I try."

"Good, because I'm going to have to ask you do more than try here."

"Is this about the job?"

"Vilkas told you already I see." He laughed cheerfully. "Oh, that boy! Always the talkative one. Come, let's go sit down outside." The went out the training courtyard and sat next to one another at one of the tables.

"Now then. I am sure you're already familiar with Gray-Manes?" Kodlak inquired.

"Of course!" Annie said remembering back to her delightful experience with old Vignar.

"For a while now, they've had a run of misfortune with their family. Their son, Thorald, was a Stormcloak soldier whom they believed dead until they've recently received an anonymous tip form someone saying that he was alive."

"What's the catch?"

Kodlak huffed. "The catch is that whoever told the Gray-Manes that their son was alive said that he was being held captive in Northwatch Keep by the Aldmeri Dominion."

Biting her lip, Annie looked at the ground for nothing in particular as this information came to her. "So, are you worried that me being an Altmer will have any effect on my capacity to perform this job at the best that I can do?"

"You understand how this can easily be complicated"

"Oh sure. This is a political affair; and would put you all in a complicated spot. Could make you look like your supporting the Stormcloaks if this information you've received is accurate. How about we track down the anonymous tipper to insure that it is?"

"You can do that?"

"Sure. Shouldn't take me more than an hour at best. I have a feeling that whoever tipped the Gray-Manes off must know them thus care about them. And, given the political nature of it all I can only assume that the tipper must have some potential political influence here in the city."

"Take care what you say Annie," Kodlak warned and heis expression suddenly became very serious. "because there is only one family in Whiterun that matches what you have just described."

"Who?"

"The Battle-Born's."

"Then it is with the Gray-Manes and Battle-Born's where I will make my start." Annie stood up.

"Annie." She turned when Kodlak spoke. "Eorland has been a friend and ally to us for many years. That is the reason I have decided that we do this. You understand right?"

"Of course I do, Harbinger." She turned back around and headed for the other side of the building. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "But, who knows? This could all be the work of some sick prankster."

When Annie turned the corner; Kodlak rubbed his knees anxiously and thought, _"I hope that that is all it is."_

* * *

;)


	7. Investigator

Well after a small break; a few cups of coffee and dozens of smoked cigarettes I have come back with a brand new chapter that I am very proud of. I hope you all enjoy it and I will try to post the next one soon.

* * *

Woe betide the fool that ever said conducting a proper investigation would be easy. Annie had for the last few hours tried to politely question every member of house Battle-Born that she could find about the missing Gray-Mane boy; and none came off as all too pleased about her inquiries. All of this only further fed into her theory that the Battle-Borns just may in fact know something about the case. That or they just didn't appreciate that it was an Altmer who was asking them.

Naturally, she figured she would start with the oldest member of the clan and head of the household – Olfrid Battle-Born.

When she had approached the old Nord there was one thing that Annie saw very clearly. With his thick, red fur jacket; lavishly tailored cloths and boots, and the gold and silver bands that held very beautiful stones that decorated his fingers; Annie knew then that the Battle-Borns were a family of some considerable wealth; much like her own once upon a time. But, that detail was irrelevant to the matters at hand.

It was in the market place where Annie had run into Olfrid Battle-Born and with polite and unassuming expressions she stepped to the old nord and asked his attention by calling his name. He turned and Annie had observed how nature had unfortunately given this man a large beak like nose and a pendulous lip. He had too visible a line of sallow teeth, which he strove feebly to conceal by constantly passing his hand over the lower part of his face. But, there was a feature that nature had bestowed him that was eerily attractive; and that was his wonderfully penetrating and questioning eyes.

Clearing her throat Annie had proceeded with her line of questioning about the missing Gray-Mane boy and old Olfrid quickly crossed his arms defensively over his chest and had said, _"I am as much a Nord as the next man, but I'm no fool. The empire is the key to Skyrim's future and I have accepted that. I do not live in the past, like those Gray-Manes. It's their fault their boy is dead. It's best they simply forget about him and move on."_

Annie could find no room in which she could argue for she agreed with the logic that blanketed his words, for he was right. To forget was to move on. A tactic that Annie had employed many times. She knew that for those who were new to this idea that it could be hard task but not impossible. In fact, for the experienced it was rather and almost too easy.

Before Annie could ask any more questions; Olfrid had taken his leave without a second glance and Annie did not trouble herself with following him so that she could ask that no doubt experienced aristocrat anything further. So, she had settled for tracking down the rest of the Battle-Born family members and their answers were almost the very same as Olfrid's.

Bergritte Battle-Born, wife of Olfrid had responded, _"There was love between our families. For generations, even! Now there is only enmity. Thorald is dead. Its best they just accept that."_ After that she moved to question Idolaf Battle-Born who said, _"The cold, frightening truth is that the Empire represents progress. Anyone who fears progress is a coward."_

" _I agree."_ Annie had responded truthfully with an irritated smile that she had tried to hide and it worked for Idolaf; the blonde-headed fool that he was did not have the mind to notice.

" _The Stormcloaks are content to live in the past forever. That's why Thorald died."_

Out of the whole lot, Alfhild Battle-Born, daughter of Olfrid and Bergritte and wife of Idolaf was the worst help of them all; beaten only by their young clueless son. _"Sorry, I really wish I could help, but I do not know anything. I do not pay attention to what my family does anymore. I find their feud with the Gray-Manes to be absolutely fruitless."_ Alfhild's response was the sincerest of them all and Annie had given her credit for that. When she moved to her son, all he said was, _"Sorry. My papa says I'm not allowed to talk to elves. Or, Stormcloak supporters."_

" _Oh, is that what he says, is it?"_ Annie had responded with hard brows, a sarcastic tone and crossed arms, and Lars nodded. _"Well did he ever tell you that we elves also like kidnap and devour little Nord boys and girl alive?"_

" _MAMA!"_ Lars had shouted on the verge of tears before running for his mother whilst Annie laughed that at least she could have the delight in scaring a Battle-Born for the family's lack of proper help. After all of her efforts, she found herself back in Jorrvaskr drinking a bottle of mead for a task done in vain.

She sat by herself with her new temporary friend that she had found at the bottom of a bottle and thought of any others ways she could approach the Battle-Born clan on the matter of the Gray-Manes missing son. There were surely ways (more creative ways) that she had at her disposal that she could use to get the Battle-Borns to loosen their tongues. These methods she would have to execute in a moment of solitary where she would not be disturbed for some lengths of time and time was not her friend.

Loud laughter broke out and Annie was taken away from her thoughts and she peered up at the commotion. Athis had challenged Aela to an arm wrestling match and judging by the scornful look on his face, Aela had obviously won and Farkas was giving her a congratulatory pat on the back.

Kodlak had walked up the upper level of Jorrvaskr for some lunch and spotted Annie sitting alone with nothing but her thoughts and moved to sit next to her. "How goes your investigation?" He asked knowing full well what the answer was and Annie didn't bother to respond. Kodlak waited a moment further after sitting down next her for her to say something but she remained silent and kept looking the almost empty bottle of mead that was held in between both of her hands.

"That's alright." Kodlak said grabbing a bottle of mead of his own and popping its cork. "I don't like holding conversations with myself sometimes." He finished then took a huge gulp of his beverage.

"Sorry Harbinger." Annie finally spoke up. "I'm just thinking."

"Would you care to share your thoughts?"

Annie took a deep breath, then took a sip of her drink before saying, "I have asked every member of the Battle-Born clan that I could find and not a single one of them was of any practical good to me. I won't even bother asking the Gray-Manes of what they may know because they're emotionally compromised do to the nature of all of this and so their ability to make rational and objective judgments are severally impaired. I do not believe that there is anything that the Gray-Manes would be able to tell me that I haven't already thought myself or heard already."

"You mustn't be so hard on them. They're going through a hard time."

"As have we all, I am sure. But, my words do not become any less true. I may just ask you to have me perform some other task, Harbinger. Because, as far as I am concerned this business with the Gray-Mane boy isn't our problem and not worth putting you all at risk of being potential enemies with the Thalmor and being hunted down as war criminals."

She had made a solid point that Kodlak hoped that she would not have realized. Had it been anyone else that had asked the same of them as what the Gray-Manes were asking of them now he would have surely declined their request for the very reasons that Annie had so flawlessly stated. It wasn't that he was afraid of the Thalmor. He always knew that one would have to be willing to die just to do be among their group. He didn't believe that meant that any among them should have to die for nonsensical reasons such as political tensions. The Companions were indeed great warriors – great warriors that hadn't the kind of people or resources to spare such as what the Thalmor had.

So again, if it were anyone else; Kodlak would have said no; but the Gray-Manes weren't just some other people. They were friends and allies that had helped them on a number of occasions.

"I'm sorry Aloriander, but I can't do that." Kodlak responded with both guilt and subtle assertiveness. "The Gray-Manes, solely out of the goodness of their hearts have aided us more times than we could ever repay. So as far as I see it, this is a favor owed."

After a brief pause, Annie tilted her head down and chuckled. There was a slight yet cool wind that brushed against her bangs. She looked over and saw another member of The Companions walk in then shut the doors behind them. She hadn't had a chance since after leaving the jail that morning to properly straighten herself out and settled for tucking her hair behind her ears and then said, "I sincerely respect your sense of devotion, Harbinger." She looked at him and stared right into his eyes that spoke only of wisdom and experience. "It is an admirable quality. However, unless I can convince the Battle-Born's to confess so that we may have validation to these claims – I see no reason why we should continue."

"Which ones have you talked too?"

"All of them!" Annie declared and counted them off with her fingers. "I've talked to Olfrid; Idolaf and Alfild. I've even asked Lars if he had known anything," Kodlak raised an amused eyebrow at Annie's last admission, "and not a single god-damned one of them knew anything."

"What about Jon? Did you ask him?"

"Jon?" Annie asked confused. "Who's Jon?"

"Jon Battle-Born. You didn't ask him?"

"I – I thought I asked all of them. You're telling me I missed one!"

"Certainly seems that way. Jon is the son of Olfrid. He's still quite young. In his mid-twenties if I remember correctly. Has a lean build to him; brown eyes; blonde hair that he often prefers to wear in a pony-tail and a beard." Annie nodded her head as she made a mental checklist in her head to memorize the details. "He likes to hang around the market a lot. Don't know what he does there really. He always looks like he's waiting for something. He could be there now."

Annie quickly gulped down what was left of her mead and in a hurried tone said, "Thank you, Kodlak!" She rushed herself from her seat; gave Kodlak a small kiss on his cheek and turned to leave as she stated that she would return later more triumphant. Kodlak sat quietly for a moment and then laughed.

Before Annie made her way to the market; she cautiously looked around then dug into her pocket for the vile of skooma that she was currently carrying with her. She wanted her mind to be sharp for her search and flawless for her inquires for when she found the young man. She wasn't going to have this one become an utter failure lest she risk breaking into Northwatch Keep only to find that the Gray-Mane they were looking for was never actually there at all. Plus, she wanted the euphoric rush that the drug provided.

She paved her way through the snow covered ground and hid in the midst of the crowd of the market looking for any that matched the description that Kodlak had so helpfully provided. In her hurry to get out of Jorrvaskr to begin her search with her newfound enthusiasm and to fulfill her need to indulge in her favourite stimulate; she had neglected to find some warm clothing. She was still dressed in the same purple silk robes that had been stained with her blood from her fight with Uthgerd that provided no shield from the cold which was only enhanced by the Skooma she had taken.

On her forehead she could feel sweat form, but in an ironic twist the tips of her fingers had quickly grown numb and her hands and feet were very cold. Despite this, she was far more intent on finding her target and decided she would suffer the cold.

What had long established itself within her was a sense of pride for her observational skills. On occasions; she considered it as much a curse as much as it was a blessing for she saw all but hardly ever what she was searching for.

In the crowd there were plenty of blondes; both male and female; tall and short. She witnessed plenty of other bearded men and had passed other members of the Battle-Born clan that she had already talked too. She looked intently at every face and every detail thereon. Time had slowed down in her mind as her eyes scanned every observable feature she could see as if through a wide lens.

And then she found him.

Beyond the crowed; leaning on a post at Belethor's General Goods store, was a young, blonde, brown eyed, bearded man. He was very handsome and his face was rugged with hair with a beard that had some length to it that was tied at the end. Annie could see a strong resemblance to Jon's father in him that almost made her laugh for he was far more attractive than Olfird.

Annie stole herself from the crowd of people and delicately walked behind Arcadia's Cauldron to the other side and hid by the side of Belethor's shop so that she could watch and look out for anything that she may be able to use to her advantage.

Minutes passed and nothing happened until a young woman with stylistically braided hair like platinum and pail, fair skin stepped out from Belethor's shop. And, she was beautiful. She was plainly dressed in a white dress with a brown corset around her abdomen which indicated that she had limited means and appeared roughly the same age as Jon Battle-Born. Her face bore no regularity of feature for her beauty was above such a description. Her lips were full and jaw line strong. Her expression was strong yet amiable and her eyes were of a blue colour that hinged on ethereal.

Despite her assumed aged, this woman, who Annie observed to be a Gray-Mane, had no sense of self-consciousness and looked sobered by experience. She carried herself confidently and with a strong sense of self.

In an experience of woman which made up maybe less than a quarter of Annie's personal sexual exploits, she had never gazed upon a woman who gave a clearer promise of a refined and admirable nature and the wisps of Annie's imagination dragged her thoughts to fantastical territories.

Immediately she noticed Jon and quickly looked around with suspicion before she grabbed him by the wrist and rushed to the back of Arcadia's Cauldron. They hadn't noticed Annie for she hid behind Belethor's shop before they had a chance to notice and nor did they notice her footsteps in the snow for as soon as they were hidden from view Jon pinned Olfina to the wall where they engaged in a deep and passionate series of long kisses of longing.

Annie peaked and saw that Olfina had wrapped her leg around Jon's waist and Jon snaked a hand up her dress to rest on the bottom of her thigh and their breathing became labored. They held onto each-other's faces as they continued their tongue locked kisses. Annie had never seen such a passionate display of love before and if only for a brief moment, wondered at what such a connection must feel like. She guessed she didn't really want to know for the wasn't foolish enough to play into the Black Condition's game and as she watched the two lovers she felt a strong inclination of pity for them for they had blindly believed in what the Black Condition appeared to have promised them.

"Olfina." Jon breathlessly heaved in betwixt their kissing. "I want to see you when you're done working."

"I can't." She kissed him and then said, "Not tonight. I need to go home. I swear, my father is starting to suspect something."

"That's your imagination running wild." Jon opened his eyes and placed his fingers underneath her chin and guided her face up so that her eyes would meet his. "Nobody knows about how we feel about each other."

"The answer is still no, Jon. But tomorrow definitely. I want to hear you sing to me. Just you and I with mead for the both of us to keep ourselves warm."

"Oh there's a better way." Jon said in a dark, husky tone as he pressed himself against Olfina and set his hand on the small of her back while she wrapped hers around his shoulders. "A buxom barmaid between the sheets will keep me plenty warm without the mead."

"Oh Jon, darling." Olfina replied with a sultry grin. "I am now more eager for tomorrow night than I was before this happened." She gave Jon a long and deep kiss one more time before pulling away. "Now let me go you deviant!" She said playfully with a smile. "I have work to do. I will see you tomorrow."

"I suppose I could." Jon said and relieved her from the wall. Olfina straightened herself out and gave Jon one final kiss on the lips. "I love you." He said to her.

"I love you too." She replied and Annie desperately tried not to remember the last time she heard those words in reference to herself from someone she truly cared about. She didn't want it and nor did she care for it.

Olfina left and Jon stood there for a moment with a strange little smile on his face as he contemplated tomorrows events totally unaware that he was being watched until Annie decided to break the silence herself.

"Ah two star-crossed lovers." Shocked Jon turned and saw Annie leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and wearing a devious smirk. "Why, that's usually the kind of thing that you only find in tragic romance stories. Quite poetic that."

Jon stood defensively but his expression was still shaken and Annie walked over to him. "Who are you? Are you with the Thalmor? Look we've already explained to you elves that Idolaf has stopped looking into the matter about Thorald. So why can't you elves just leave us alone."

"Easy." Annie raised her hands up as she spoke. "I'm not with the Thalmor and, admittedly I don't want anything to do with the Thalmor. They're a little too… passionate, for my taste. But, since you mention it I would like to know what you know about the missing Gray-Mane."

"I don't know anything." Claimed Jon sternly. "I only know that he's missing. Now if you'll excuse me." Jon made a bid to leave but what Annie said next stopped him from taking another step.

"I wonder how Olfina will feel if she found out that you were withholding information about it. Something tells me that she would be very cross with you." Jon stood idly in silence to Annie's words. "I mean, a woman like that. Strong and full of zeal. A single insignificant act of betrayal would be enough to send her away."

"Come off it!" Jon barked. "Olfina would never believe you over me."

Annie simply shrugged her shoulders then said, "Well I guess you have a point there. But, who's to say that her family and yours won't ever hear about the goings on between you and her." Jon's breathing became heated. His nostrils flared with very breath and his shoulders raised and fell deeply with every breath. "I bet if Eorland ever found out that you've been bedding is delicious daughter he would…."

Jon grabbed Annie by the neck and slammed her into the wall. He wasn't a violent person by nature and much preferred to avoid it whenever possible but Annie had pushed him. These issues with their families was a very delicate matter and he wasn't going to tolerate a cross word about either of them. "You won't be able to say a word if you're dead!" He squeezed Annie's throat hard and Annie gasped as best she could as she tried to speak.

"You can… kill… me… if that is… what you… desire!" Jon was confused and lightened his grip so that Annie could speak more freely. With a smile she said, "It isn't like I have anything to lose. I do not fear death and there is no one who would shed a tear over me. But I can't say the same if Thorald dies. This may be your one and only chance to do the right thing and save him. To truly show your devotion to Olfina; to prove that you're the kind of man that she deserves." Annie paused to catch her breath. "Or, don't tell me and live with the shameful secret of his death while you go about courting a Gray-Mane that you will not be worthy of."

Jon's expression showed the conflict that waged in his mind and Annie saw that his reserve was waning. He looked back to her and asked, "How do I know that I can trust you?"

Annie rolled her eyes in thought and bobbed her head from side to side. "Well, me personally you can't. I am an elf. For all you know I could be a member of the Thalmor working in secrecy. But, trust in The Companions. When I get the information I want, it will be I and The Companion Vilkas that will ensure Thoralds safe return home. And, I promise you; your family and Olfina's will never find out about your relationship. So how about it," Annie stretched her neck to try and giver her more room to speak and looked him dead in the eyes. "Do we have a deal?"

Jon's jaw was clenched and he stared hard at Annie as he thought about it. "You promise you'll never say a word?"

"I swear on my father's grave."

As soon as she said that, Jon released her throat and Annie leaned over into a coughing fit. "Follow me." Jon ordered and Annie stood back up and straightened herself out before she followed suit.

The house of Clan battle was in the wind district and it was impressive. It was two stories tall and the main entrance was followed by a small flight of stairs. To the left there were three wooden benches that had been devoured by the recent snow fall and in the center was a brazier that only exposed a few of the black coals therein. Dead lavender bushes littered the border of the house and Annie imagined what the place must look like during the spring and summer seasons.

Pulling a ring of keys from his pocket, Jon molded through them until he found his copy of the house key. He unlocked the door and invited her in. There was no one inside and Annie was again impressed by the house. There was a fire pit and a cooking spit right in front of her. Four pillars surrounded the fire pit and were as wide as large tree trunks that had been skinned of their bark. There were doors to different rooms on either side of the main room as well as wooden benches along the walls.

"Please take a seat and wait. I'll only be a moment." Said Jon and Annie smoothed out her skirt beneath her and sat down to wait. Jon disappeared into what she assumed to either be his room or the master bedroom and she could he hear rummaging through some belongings inside. A part of her believed that she was being deceived and he would reappear with a weapon and attempt to take her life. But, another part of her believed that Jon had more honor inside of his body than that; and she was right to assume it.

When Jon returned; he came back with a small, red leather bound book. He opened it and revealed a small sheet of paper that had been folded in half and he handed to Annie. Before she had a chance to open it, Jon offered her a glass of water which she took and thanked him for it. She opened the letter then and read its contents.

 **Imperial Missive**

 **By General Tullius**

About the Thalmor imprisonment of a Whiterun citizen

 _It has recently come to my attention that inquiries have been made as to the whereabouts of one Thorald Gray-Mane._

 _It is my duty to inform you that Thalmor agents have taken possession of the prisoner and have escorted him to Northwatch Keep._

 _I do not feel like I need to elaborate. It is in everyones best interest if the matter is dropped entirely. I trust that there will be no further inquiries as to this matter._

 **Gen. Tullius**

Quietly Annie folded the letter back up and quietly she handed it back to Jon who placed the letter back inside of the small book before snapping it shut.

"It was you who tipped the Gray-Manes off that Thorald was alive weren't you?" Annie asked softly.

Jon sat next to her and took a deep breath. "I still love them as strongly as I had before the war happened. These political differences that divide us are pathetic. And, I don't just mean the ones that divide our families." He also meant the ones that caused the war to begin with. "I do not understand how so small a thing can cause such great damage. It's like people forget who they were and what was most important. I lay awake at night and I wonder what it all means. Why the Gods plan for such things to happen."

Annie laughed and Jon looked at her. "Oh Jon! There is no reason for it all! It's all meaningless. Things like war, prejudice and madness – these things do not trouble me because these things have existed for as long as creation itself. They are cruel necessities of the world. Without these things to balance order; order would collapse in on itself and be ruptured by an inward chaos that cannot be prevented. To ascribe meaning to these things will only bring you misery. Do not dwell on them Jon. Just accept them for no matter how much you try, no matter how much you fight tooth and nail; no matter how much you crawl you will never find happiness in trying to justify these things that happen."

"What are you saying?"

"What I am saying Jon is the world doesn't care about what you think or want. The world is indifferent to our woes and the Gods," Annie laughed cynically "The Gods, just sit back and watch. We are but play things to them. Just as much if not more so to them than the Daedra. If you want my advice; take Olfina and run far from here. Start a new life and forget about all of this because this will not change no matter how hard you try."

Jon shook his head in disbelief and said, "I knew you were mad the moment I laid eyes on you. But, now I am more than certain that Sheogorath himself has bedded himself with you." Annie chuckled at the notion. "You have what you wanted. Now get out, and remember what you swore to me."

"I shall do just that. Take care Jon." Annie left and Jon sat in the ghostly quietness of his house and reflected on what Annie had told him because as much as he didn't want to believe, what she told him made sense; but he thought that from now on he would endeavor to stay away from elves as long as he can for they were too complicated for him to want to bother with any more.

Annie was on her way back to Jorrvaskr but as she walked she felt eyes upon her and she heard the subtle sound of footfalls in the snow behind her. She stopped walking and without turning around she addressed the person behind her. "If you continue to follow me; I will have no choice but to claim publicly that you are trying to forcefully take advantage of me."

"I want to talk." A deep and husky voice said behind her and she turned to find a hooded man in a long cloak behind her.

Annie crossed her arms and rested her weight on one leg. "Reveal who you are and I may consider it." The man did as he was asked and removed his hood. He had white hair and a full beard. His eyes were an icy blue and his facial features were strong, bold and haggard. Beneath his cloak he was wearing a suit of armor made from the hide of some form of reptile'

"My name is Avulstein Gray-Mane."

"I pinned you for a Gray-Man the second you lifted your hood. You and the Battle-Borns have family falling out of every nook and cranny don't you." Within the passed few hours Annie had very well met many members of both families. A thing she normally never did.

"I don't have much time. I need to go back inside soon. I'm being hunted by the Thalmor and I do not want to put my family at risk."

"You're fighting for the Stormcloaks aren't you?"

"I am. I was out for a walk when I heard some Battle-Borns talking about an elf who was asking them about my brother. And, here you are walking out of their house. What did you find?"

"I found enough to ensure that Thorald is alive and is held prisoner by the Thalmor. The Battle-Borns knew this and kept it hidden. Until recently that is."

"Curse those Battle-Borns!" Avulstein growled. "I should put them all to my ax."

Annie closed the distance between them and said," Do not think so badly of them. For if it wasn't for Jon, we would have never found out about any of this."

"Jon?"

"Yes. It was he who told your family of Thorald. Anomalously of course for obvious reasons. He cares and wants to see him safe. He told me himself."

"Why would he do that?"

"Are you daft? I just told you that he cares. He doesn't agree with his family. He wants to see this end. If there is a Battle-Born you can trust it will be him. I'm on my way to Jorrvaskr now to inform Kodlak that we have validation and we will make our way to Northwatch Keep where we may hope to save him from the gruesome fate that awaits him. Assuming he is in fact still alive, that is."

"He's alive. I feel it in my very soul. I have something I want to ask you. Let go with you to Northwatch Keep. I want to help save him and avenge his capture."

"No." Annie responded tersely. "I cannot risk having you with us. You'd be nothing more than a reliability. Your too emotionally invested in what is going on and will not be able think rationally should something happen out of favour. Stay here. Stay out of sight and we will bring Thorald safe home."

Avulstein smirked. He looked up at the bright blue sky and said, "You know Jon and I used to be best friends when we were kids. I hope what you said of him is true. I want to believe it. If you do find Thorald, you and The Companions will be doing us a great honor."

"We can only try." Replied Annie. "Now, I need to be going and you need to be hiding. Good day Avulstein."

"Good day, Companion." Avulstein put his hood back on and went to continue his walk around Whiterun before returning home before his mother would worry about him.

Annie barged through the doors of Jorrvaskr in triumph. She saw Vilkas sitting at the dining table about to take Aela on in an arm wrestling match. "Vilkas!" She yelled excitedly.

Vilkas saw Annie walked towards him and in irritation said, "What?"

"Get ready to leave; for tomorrow we make our way to Northwatch Keep!"

* * *

I pretty much have all of the next chapter planned. With the help of my good friend and border line co-writer, the next chapter should be rather swift. I can't wait to get started on it. In fact; you could say I'm going to have "a ball" writing it.


	8. The Man That Is Sigmund

This chapter was a very collaborative effort I have to admit. My friend and I were discussing this chapter since before I finished chapter seven. We planned talked every inch about what was going to happen and why and we planned every scene until the only part was left was writing the damned thing. And as I was writing it I had my friend look over the progress and make whatever changes he wanted since it is his character and all and the changes that he made were better than what I had originally written. This chapter was a real challenge to write and I racked my brain over it but I am very pleased with the end result.

Please enjoy. :)

* * *

Life as Sigmund knew it was all too full of random unexpected happenings that were unpredictable, unpreventable and sometimes, utterly unstoppable. He had seen many things in his relative experience that only reinforced this very idea with little variation. He leaned back in his chair at his desk and rubbed his chin as he allowed himself to recollect an event that he had been involved in that by the purest form if its definition, was random. It wasn't long that one instant swiftly came to mind. An instant that happened more than twenty years ago when he was still a young scholar and fresh to the new, cold, mountainous world that was Skyrim.

In a cave not too far from the capital city of Solitude there was a sinister plot to revive one of the most terrifying monarchs to have ever lived. Queen Potema Septim was one of the most powerful necromancers; second only to the King of Worms himself. The cult that was trying to revive her hadn't that slightest clue of what would have become of them and to the rest of Tamriel should they have succeeded in their goal. Which, they almost did if he hadn't had the mind to investigate and stop the plot himself.

No one, other than the party involved, could have ever guessed that such a thing could have happened. It was merely by a stroke of luck that anyone knew about it at all. That was when Sigmund first began to contemplate the prospects of life's utter randomness and its indifference to that randomness. From those thoughts he began to plant the seeds of a new philosophy for himself.

For many years Sigmund formulated and researched all that he could that could help find a satisfactory answer but none ever came to him. It was from that point that he felt that the only true answer in all of it was life was simply absurd. It was illogical, irrational, indifferent and blind to everything that happened within it. Sigmund did not shy away from this newly discovered illumination, and rather embraced it; smiled at it in spite of itself. For it came to him that if his discovery was true and he did believe it was that he was able to chart the course of his life by his own means. Not by the whims of the Gods.

So he studied hard and eventually landed himself as an instructor at the College of Winterhold for many years before the incident with Annie and Ancano that eventually lead to his promotion to Arch Mage. It was a job he took very seriously for every waking hour was spent working, and researching; practicing and teaching. He was good at it. Probably the very best for his students and contemporaries took well to his lessons and followed his examples well.

Life however was trickier than that. For he felt that it wasn't all about working hard so that one may get ahead in life. He felt that people should take the time to more self-indulgent. To take the time to appreciate the subtle and more simple pleasure that life had to offer. And, he made sure his students knew that. Which was why today was a special day.

A ball had been planned for tonight and all of the students had been looking forward to it as were the instructors. It was a time that they could stop to enjoy life in a simpler manner. To forgo their studies and the stresses of practice for a small amount of time to allow them a chance to have fun. There was to be food and drinks to be imbibed. Music was to be performed by some of the most talented masters of the Bards College in Solitude which he paid them a healthy sum for.

The ball wasn't exclusive to the students and faculty for Sigmund had sent out invitations to Winterhold's and Solitude's more prestigious citizens. Nobles were to expected as well as the Jarl of Winterhold. Even Elisif, Queen of Skyrim was invited though Sigmund had his doubts, for obvious reasons that she would show. And, lastly there was the Thalmor.

Given his recent entanglement with Justiciar Vancalmo; Sigmund was reminded of his fears. The Thalmor had tendrils of influence throughout Tamriel like an ever watchful shadow. He had stressed very highly to stay under their line of sight but Vancalmo had shown him that he did not keep his head low enough. He believed he might mend relations between the College and the Thalmor for now he felt that sooner or later they will set their sights on the College and he wanted to keep it and the students safe. So before he sent any invitations to anyone else; he made sure that First Emissary Elenwen received her invitation to which he even got a letter back written by Elenwen herself saying that she had accepted.

Sigmund was very glad that she had. There was not one person in the Thalmor that he was afraid of. Elenwen included. It was merely the organization itself and the amount of power that it held that he feared. He was confident that when Elenwen arrived that he would have no difficulty in swaying her to his side and insuring a prosperous future for the College.

The overall protection of the College was his main objective as the Arch Mage. It had already been under fire of accusations and dark rumors for too long and the Thalmor was the last opponent it could never afford to have and nor did Sigmund want it to be. That was his main drive for allowing himself to pulled into Vancalmo's search for Annie; not the documents he promised.

He had devised a way to track her down for he had in his possession the fragments of a soul gem that once belonged to Annie. It was the same soul gem that was imbued with magic that caused the student that Vancalmo had so effectively pointed out, to end his own life. He didn't know why he decided to keep them back then but he was glad now that he did it.

Each individual shard, in each of their own unique polygonal forms, were scattered throughout his desk. As of yet it was not known how after its destruction, a soul gem was able to keep some modicum of the magic that was inside of it. Many scholars throughout history have tried to unravel this mystery and not a one was able to solve it. But, it was known that under the right conditions that the magic that lay dormant in these shards could still be used.

Annie was a powerful arcane practitioner and her magic was bound to her very prominently. Sigmund theorized that he could reassign the intent of the magic that was within these shards to act as a sort of beacon for whenever Annie or her magic was nearby.

He scrolled a few notes down allowing for the sounds of the crow quill scratching parchment to ease his thoughts. A cold chill rested in the in the room and his toes were slightly cold though he was wearing high quality boots. He blew into his cold hands, rubbed them together and looked up at one if his windows that, like the rest of them, had been frosted over where the shrill sound of blowing wind was more apparent. To this day he did not understand how Nords could live in such harsh conditions.

A soft, delicate knock came from outside of his door and he was stopped short from his experiments. He blinked a few times and as if in the room with him said, "Faralda?" He stood from his chair and unlocked the doors. Faralda stood outside dressed in a lovely blue dress that kept her shoulders and neck open. She wore a green and dark yellow sash around her waist where tied it hung loosely between her thighs over the dress.

"Faralda! Oh, my goodness," He spoke in a low voice, "you look splendid." He took her hand and placed a small kiss upon it where she giggled in response to his charm.

"Easy now." Said she. "One time was the deal and one time it shall remain. I do not fall so easily for your charming behavior and honeyed words as most other girls do."

Sigmund hardened his brows and realized what she was referring too. "Oh no! It was nothing like that, I promise." But, he thought back to that night from a few years ago when he shared his bed with her and how wonderful it had been for the both of them. "So, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be with the rest of the instructors awaiting the guests?"

"That's just it, Sigmund. They're all here and waiting for the gates to be opened. Have you not been paying attention to the time?"

Brushing a hand through his springy, unkempt hair; Sigmund took in a deep breath for he realized he hadn't been. He allowed his work to distract him too much. "How long have they been waiting?"

"Not long." She replied gently with a smile. "A few minutes at the most."

"That's a relief!" Sigmund breathed with his head leaned back and a hand over his heart. "Alas, the night is not ruined!" He walked out of his room and closed the doors. He held his arm out for Faralda and said, "Shall we?"

"Oh, I do not think so." She responded. "You hardly look presentable." Sigmund was dressed for the ball but he had not refined himself. His black silk waste coat was unbuttoned and the white, long sleeved undershirt he wore beneath it was hanging loosely over the hem of his black pants and was left partially unbuttoned revealing a small tuft of chest hair. His face was unshaven with stubble that coated the bottom of his chin down his neck.

"Lift up your arms." Requested Faralda. He did as she asked and she tucked in his undershirt until it fit more tightly around him and then buttoned up his waste coat. "You should shave when you have the chance." She said scratching the underside of his chin. "But, I suppose this will have to do."

"Do you have a jacket?" She asked and Sigmund's eyes quickly opened up wide and he rushed back into his quarters. He rummaged through his wardrobe and came back out with a long dark, purple overcoat with onyx buttons and a gray and black animal pelt that would be worn over his shoulders.

He threw the jacket on, buttoned it, tightened the tassels and pulled on the lapels. For composure he coughed and ran a hand through his hair. He leaned over with a raised eyebrow and a smirk and held his arm out again then said, "Now shall we?"

Faralda grinned, rolled her eyes and shook her head and said, "Yes; now we shall." As they descended down the cold, stone steps of the windowless tower that was lit only by a few candles Faralda asked, "So, Sigmund; a few of us are concerned about why you were so generous with the invitations. It isn't like us to open the world up to our ways so brazenly."

"Dear, sweat, Faralda." He spoke slowly and with pause. "You always know the right questions to ask." He complimented. "I know this event is mostly intended to be something that our students can enjoy but, I am taking opportunities here. Opportunities that may help in securing the future of the college."

They opened up the heavy wooden door which creaked loudly and echoed through the tower like a door to an old tomb and entered The Arcanaeum. It was brightly lit and their eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden juxtaposition. The Arcanaem; much like most of the building was off limits to the public. The collection of books relating to history and magic were too valuable to them for them to want to risk any of them getting damaged or possibly stolen.

"Does that have to include the Thalmor?" Faralda wasn't pleased with the Thalmor attending the ceremony much like the rest of the college and all for the same reasons as Sigmunds'. Ancano had left a deep impression on them all and the trauma of that time affected them all to this day. There was so much fear; so much despair and doubt that day that all who've been at the College since then hesitate to even call it luck that they survived.

"Of course!" Sigmund replied in a cheerful tone. "Given our history with them; there is no one more who we shouldn't be attempting to sway to our side."

They opened another set of heavy wooden doors that lead to the Hall of the Elements which was a large circular antechamber made of stone and marble with a high ceiling supported by a ring of large stone pillars. In the center of the room was the focus point followed by a small set of stairs and would almost look like a well to newcomers; a well with magical energies that the visitors would not be able to understand that rose to the ceiling like a waterfall defying all sense of logic.

A cold draft blew through them for the main entrance was open where all the students and teachers were waiting for Sigmund and Faralda to finally emerge.

Waiting by the doors was Tolfdir and he smiled once he saw Faralda and Sigmund walk out. "Pleased, to see you could make it, sir." He spoke jokingly in a polite tone.

Sigmund rubbed the back of his head. "My attention wanders; I apologize." He replied.

"Oh we all very well know." Tolfdir chuckled. "Shall we proceed with the opening of the gates?"

"Lets." Sigmund replied and he along with Faralda and Tolfdir stood side by side as they faced the main gate whom waiting just outside were the nobles and government officials that Sigmund had invited. All three looked at one another and raised their arms with open palms where they manifested orbs of light into existence.

The crowd were all chatting quietly to one another and occasionally peaking over each other's shoulders in anticipation. Yes, all were eagerly awaiting to meet the mages that were responsible for all of the controversy.

All except one. Elenwen was standing with her arms crossed and stood patiently and quietly as did her two body guards who observed very carefully everyone that was surrounding them insuring that none would turn a distasteful stare or threatening glance at her. Fortune weighed on them heavily for any who did stare was only in momentarily consideration before turning away and pretending that Elenwen and her men did not exist.

Behind the crease of the gate a light slowly imitated and grew. The crowd awed and the ones in the front stepped back as the light became more intense and then the gates opened. Balls of light with hints of a tail of magical energy whisped in the air all round them in a controlled pace. A sound like a burning candle wick was heard from each orb that flew and even passed through crowd which startled them at first and then amazed them when they learned that they were unharmed. The lights surrounded and circled around the bridge and flew overhead drawing in looks of admiration and awe from the crowd.

Following the trail of the bridge, the lights continued to fly ever more. Elenwen watched with an unyielding stoicism as if unimpressed but watched the lights fly through the night sky like slow moving shooting stars without pause.

When the lights reached the end of the bridge that shot back up into the sky and circled their way back over the college where they formed together into one giant orb of light like a white star. It sat for a moment then shot straight up into the air with tails of swirling light followed behind it before it blew up into hundreds of smaller lights that shot in all directions and slowly fell like falling snow before dissipating.

Sigmund stepped forward the with hands behind his back and a small smile on his face with Faralda and Tolfdir behind him. The crowd applaud at the beautiful display that was shown to them for it was nothing like most of them had ever seen. Sigmund raised his hand in the air and the crowd silenced.

"Nobles, Officials, and esteemed guests!" Projected Sigmund. "Let me be the first to welcome you to this most unusual of ceremonies! May your night here by a most enjoyable one and may our futures be ever prosperous! Though politics may divide us; the college remains neutral! Let us, for one night, put our differences aside and enjoy more of what life has to offer us!" Sigmund finished and the guests slowly walked in where they were greeted by students and staff alike. Hands were shaken and introductions were being made. The band played their music and people danced, ate and drank wine to their hearts content.

Sigmund walked the grounds keeping a watchful eye ensuring that the students, teachers and guests were all getting along alright. He was disappointed to see that many who he invited were unable able to come and that while everyone was getting on just fine, those who were in political opposition to one another willingly segregated themselves to those who were more like minded. In his disappointment that many of whom he wanted to arrive did not he was in utmost delight to see that the most important guest of them all did in fact arrive. First Emissary Elenwen herself who was currently sipping at a glass of wine with her body guards keeping their ever watchful eyes open for any possible danger.

Not that they had to worry about such a thing for Elenwen carried herself professionally and had an air about her that was domineering and commanded respect for hardly anyone would approach her and those who did appeared intimidated and tense.

Faralda walked up to Sigmund holding a glass of wine herself and playfully said, "Arch Mage Sigmund's diabolical plan to create tensions between people for the sake of chaos comes to light." They shared a small laugh before Faralda said, "I'm surprised that you aren't out there," She gestured to the crowd "you know, dancing; trying to seduce some lucky woman for the night."

"Oh, I've already set my sights on one."

"Who?" Faralda asked. Sigmund didn't answer verbally and instead kept his eyes on the one he referred to and so Faralda traced his glance to the person he meant and her eyes went wide when she discovered who it was.

"No!" She said in a shocked tone. "You don't mean…"

"First Emissary Elenwen?" Sigmund cut her off. "Indeed I do."

"There's no way you can do that!" Faralda claimed. "Never mind the fact that she is the head of the Thalmor but, she is a fierce believer in our race's superiority which I myself believe."

"Now Faralda, I thought you had a little more faith in me than that. You see, I am already three steps ahead." He pointed to one of his apprentices who was holding a bottle of wine that Faralda could not out and was hesitantly walking towards Elenwen with it. "You see that wine bottle he's carrying?" Sigmund asked Faralda.

"Yes." She replied.

"That wine is a vintage far better than what is being served to all other guests. Something of which Elenwen will be very, very partial too." Faralda observed Sigmund's apprentice saying something to the First Emissary and how curiously she held her empty wine glass out and took a contemplative sip from it once it was filled. The apprentice pointed to Sigmund and Elenwen turned seeing him standing there. With an appreciative smile Elenwen lifted her glass to him and nodded her head.

"Go have fun, Faralda." Suggested Sigmund. "I have to go take care of this. And, don't worry, I'm not just doing this for simple pleasures. This is also for the good of the College's future."

"Killing two birds with one stone is it?" She asked with a smirk.

"Indeed." Sigmund replied and went over to where Elenwen was standing who was currently speaking to her body guards. She was dressed in the traditional black Thalmor robes with the golden trims and buttons that all high ranking Altmer officials wore which modestly hugged her skinny yet well maintained figure. Her cheeks were lightly gaunt and her face and hair was showing the starting signs of age for there was traces of gray in her otherwise very blonde hair, but she has aged well for her face bore an attractive maturity which spoke of both energy and experience. The success of the Altmer's selective breeding practices were very evident in Elenwen.

As he approached; her body guards prepared to stand guard but Elenwen raised her hand to assure them that all would be fine.

"First Emissary Elenwen!" Said Sigmund with a smile. "So glad you could make it." Sigmund took her hand and placed a kiss upon it.

"Pleasure to be here." She responded with subtle cheer. "I say, when I first got your invitation I thought this was going to be a bore but now I see I was mistaken; and that doesn't happen often, so congratulations."

"You flatter me, First Emissary." Sigmund responded and that's when a curious and attractive scent like mountain flowers caught his nostrils. "I detect a fragrance in the air, First Emissary. Now don't tell me what it is," he thought for a moment as he ran every brand of perfume that he knew of in his mind until he found the one that matched. "Sunset of Summerset! A high brand as that is very befitting for a woman of your stature."

Elenwen chuckled under her breath and said, "Now it is you who flatters me, Arch Mage. And, your knowledge of aromatics and your ability to identify them simply by scent alone is simply amazing."

"Well, I'm in the amazing business." Sigmund replied in an affirmative tone.

Elenwen laughed and took a sip of her wind then said, "Now, Arch Mage; in your invitation you mentioned an alliance between your college and the Thalmor. A sort of friendship, if you will, so as to ease the tensions between us. In your letter you asked for Dominion backing in exchange for opening some of your books to us."

"That's right." Replied Sigmund.

"Now, this is all very well but I have to ask why now do you choose to side yourself with us years after the incident with Ancano. Wouldn't soon after have been wiser?"

Sigmund laughed. "Yes, it surely would've been. But, please understand that after Ancano we here at the college have been very hesitant to open ourselves up. It was a very stressful time that had caused us to be very suspicious of your actions."

"That is understandable." Elenwen agreed then took another sip from her glass. "I suppose I should tell you that Ancano's actions do not speak for the Thalmor as he was acting on his own. It was not my intention for him to run rampant as he did." Sigmund nodded and he was stunned that he sensed a strong honesty from Elenwen as she spoke. "The Thalmor's duty here in Skyrim is to observe and to ensure that the White-Gold Concordat remains enforced by whatever means we see fit; Ancano's actions were not representative of any of those principles."

"Am I to assume that you're onboard with the idea?" Sigmund inquired.

"It is a possibility. But, if I am to agree with this then I would like a tour of the place tonight after the party."

"That can be arranged." Sigmund replied.

"And I assume that, like myself, you will have some terms."

"That's correct. The security of the college and its independence is my primary concern. But, we can work out the terms on a later date. Perhaps at the Embassy if that is preferable. For now, I simply wish you and your men to have a wonderful evening."

"That is very kind of you, Arch Mage." Elewen held her glass to one of her body guards then said, "And, if that is something that you want to guarantee than how about you share a dance with me."

"Me," Sigmund stared up at the ceiling as if he was thinking about it. "Dance with you. The Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold and The First Emissary of the Thalmor." He looked back at Elenwen and noticed a glint in her eyes. "Sounds delightful." He held his arm out for her and she took it in both of her hands and he led her to the center of the antechamber where others made room for them.

Sigmund peered at the band and told Elenwen to hold on while he went to say something to them. He walked back and after a moment of talking it over the band started playing traditional Altmer music.

Sigmund wrapped his arm around Elenwen's and the had begun dancing. They took a step forward then kicked their legs up. They let go of their arms, turned to face the other way and locked their arms again and repeated this action a number of times. Elenwen watched Sigmund's form as he danced and was taken in by his precision for she never thought that she would meet a person from the races of men to know any style of Altmer dance.

"Look around you." Sigmund suggested to Elenwen and she discovered that everyone else had stopped dancing and was all looking at just the two of them as they danced.

Sigmund and Elenwen released their arms and faced each other. They clasped their wrists to their waists and then began to tap their feet. They took two steps to the left then kicked their legs up in the air then twirled to the right. They took another two steps to the right and once again kicked their legs up. They twirled into each other and joined their arms once again where they simply danced by tapping their feet and heals in mastered precision and skill.

Faralda watched and smiled in amazement at the level of skill that Sigmund and Elenwen showed as they tapped their feet in fast paces without flaw. Every stomp of their feet, tap of their heels, ankles and tip toes were like a percussion that matched the rhythm of the music being played. Strands of Elenwen's hair had fallen in front of her face and Sigmund's forehead was beginning to shine with sweat despite the cold. They moved faster and faster as the music picked up and then in a sudden climax the music stopped and Sigmund and Elenwen ended their dance with a bow.

The crowd applauded and cheered and Sigmund and Elenwen rose breathless. They looked at one another and smiled. Elenwen fixed her air and Sigmund wiped his forehead. Elenwen's men walked over, handed her back her wine glass and the crowd dispersed back to their regular activities.

"Where did you learn to dance like an Altmer?" Asked Elenwen before she took a generous drink from her wine glass.

Sigmund laughed silently and said, "I spent some time abroad in Summerset when I was a boy. My family took a holiday there and my parents hired a dance instructor."

"You're an aristocrat." Deduced Elenwen.

"Yes, my father owns a business of some modicum success and I inherited a bit of wealth when I became of age. A few wise investments in my youth has granted me a respectable fortune if I may be so bold. It has its uses; repairing the bridge and a little remodeling for the college for example. The wine however is from my personal stock, courtesy of my ancestor, I'm told he had expensive tastes."

"Tastes expensive." Elenwen said taking a sip and giving him a wink. "I hope there's more to go around. I'm almost out."

"There is and I have even better vintages if you would like to try."

"Really? You intrigue me Arch Mage. Very well I would like to try this wine that you claim to have."

"Well, you would have to wait until after the festivities I'm afraid. I'd very much like to keep my private stock away from too many prying eyes."

"Aside from me it appears. This makes me special?" Elenwen asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Of course you are first Emissary. Anything that I can do to help ease relations between us. I hope you understand. You and the Thalmor were my top priority as far as relations are concerned."

"Your flattery knows no bounds, Arch Mage." Finished Elenwen before they continued the night in regular fashion. Sigmund did his best to converse with other aristocrats but every time it became harder and harder to do so for every time he finished he would stammer out a few halting words to escape the conversation and then sit downcast, with his head drooped, deaf to the noise that surrounded him. He took to a glass of wine when he found the talk to be especially of a dull sense of intellect.

He had wanted to form relations but he hadn't an idea that would have been so taxing on patience. He may have been of affluent backgrounds but he never considered himself like most of the pompous elites that he met. So, when the party was over, there was no greater relief to fill his being for now it was just Elenwen, her body guards and himself and the tour that she had requested.

Sigmund had taken them through the Hall of Countenance where the teachers stayed. It was a two story tall tower in honeycomb shape where in the center there was a circular well that radiated a blue aura of magical energy that provided the main light source for the inside of the building. The Hall of Attainment was the same in every fashion only that it was where the students stayed and it showed for there were books and other odd ornaments laying around the main area of the building outside of the rooms.

"Is there a set time that everyone turns in?" Elenwen asked.

"Not exactly." Responded Sigmund. "Everyone can go to sleep at their leisure but we all, students and teachers alike, take our studies here very seriously so everyone turns in early most times. You may find the occasional student in the arcanaeum late at night doing research but; that's about it."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Sigmund rolled his eyes in thought and said, "I keep most of my studies and research in my quarters."

"What kind of research do you do?"

"History and magic philosophy mostly." He didn't lie but that wasn't the whole truth. He was taking delicate steps to insure that he did reveal anything that could get him into trouble for his true studies were of a darker nature. "I also dabble into curious little experiments every now and again. Little theoretical practices so as to garner a further understanding about the inner workings of magic."

Elenwen smirked. "You continue to intrigue me Arch Mage. Forgive me, but I take great interest in scholarly subjects. Before I joined the ranks of the Thalmor I fancied the idea of being a teacher of history."

"Then you will enjoy our next stop First Emissary." Sigmund confidently declared.

There next stop was the arcanaeum itself and Elenwen was silent in her enthusiasm. The Arcanaeum was a large circular room with partition walls separating the outer ring of the room from the central reading area where tables and chairs stood within a polygonal impression in the floor. Columns sat within the partitions where many different books were packed side by side one another. Elenwen walked passed them with one hand behind her back and the other tracing along the spines of the books as she passed them.

In the outer ring of the room there stood against the walls a series of locked bookcases that contained countless of volumes that contained knowledge and wisdom in many subjects and fields. Elenwen could only wonder what cracking open one these old books would be like. She imagined running her hand over one to brush off the dust before opening it and blowing more dust off before reading it.

"Everything any of our teachers or students need to know are locked within these bookcases. Everything from every school of magic; to history and philosophy; to magical theory; everything. This room alone has taught many mages and has laid witness to many discoveries."

Elenwen eyed the room and asked, "And exactly how many volumes do you keep in here?"

Scratching the back of his head, Sigmund tried to remember the exact number but came up nil, so he settled for a rough estimate. "A few hundred at least. Truthfully no one really knows. The only one who can give you an exact count is Urag gro-Shub, the head librarian. That old Orc has been here for ages."

"Hmmm, at least someone here keeps records." Elenwen added.

"I would hope so! that's part of Urag's job." Sigmund replied with a grin. "In fact I'd be surprised if I heard that he didn't. He can be more meticulous than I at times."

"Hmph!" Elenwen took one final look around then said, "So where to next?"

"All that's left is my quarters." He lied. There was one other location in the College that he didn't tell them about. The Midden was the sub lair of the college and was strictly off limits. Sigmund and Faralda were the only two with a key to open it but Faralda only had one in the event that Sigmund lost his. As it stood; Sigmund was the only one who went down there.

They had entered Sigmund's quarters and Elenwen could certainly see that Sigmund was indeed a tidy man, but a tidy man with a taste in furniture. It was a dodecagonal room with an antechamber and central garden where various species of plants and fungi prospered included a fully grown tree that were all being sustained by magical stationary, floating orbs of light much like the ones that she and everyone else had seen just before entering the gate.

Like the arcanaeum, there was a partition wall that divided that sleeping area from the rest of the room. There were various rugs made from the skins of bears lining the floor. To the left was an alchemy table that was a clutter of glass jars, cups, tubing and many other kinds of ornaments that Elenwen would not dare disturb for she was no alchemist and to her right was arcane enchanter that had several different candles of differing lengths lined up at the top of it.

Shelves packed to the brim with books, bottles, foods, alchemical ingredients and odd curious decorations backed the walls of the room. Elenwen was under the firm impression that her work space was a heavy load, not that she wasn't in her natural element while she was working, but Sigmund seemed to be a whole different monster entirely.

Sigmund disappeared behind the partition before returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. Its age was clear for dust had settled onto the bottle and the label had faded and turned a brownish yellow.

"What's this? More wine?" She said with a raised eyebrow and took the bottle from him.

"I did make an offer to you and one that I intend to keep. Look at the date." Suggested Sigmund.

She wiped the label with her hand before finding where the date was marked. It was horribly faded and Elenwen had to squint her eyes for a number of seconds before she could make it out. She looked at Sigmund in disbelief as she said, "This is dated third era, four thirty – two."

Sigmund took the bottle back and said, "A year before the Oblivion Crisis." He popped the cork that had required a fair amount of effort and poured them each a glass. "Four hundred septims a bottle where you can find them. So if you have the means, do not hesitate or will regret it."

Taking the glass to her lips, she sniffed it before taking a sip and in utter shock it was the best wine she had ever tasted.

With their wine in hand, Sigmund had shown them many different artifacts of historical and magical importance and told them the stories behind them. Sigmund's intimate knowledge of his chose profession was a factor that Elenwen had taken into account and helped formed her decision if whether or not she would in fact give him the backing that he had requested from her.

"You certainly seem to have earned your position." Elenwen commented before a glass case that hung on the wall caught her eyes. She looked inside and did not understand what she was seeing. Inside there was a staff that looked to hold with what appeared to be a rotting skull at its peak held by with skeletal hands before merging with the shaft that looked wrapped in some withered kind of leather. It was a grotesque sight to behold but Elenwen was not deterred by it for she knew exactly what it was and who it had belonged too.

"Ah, I see you have stumbled upon one of my most valued antiquities!" Sigmund said with some excitement.

"It's the Staff of Worms, is it not? Once held by Mannimarco himself."

Looking between Elenwen and her men, Sigmund chuckled, shook his head and said, "Yes, that is exactly what it is. You surprise me Elenwen."

"I told you I once wanted to be a teacher of history. I have read about Mannimarco and his necromancy."

"I don't think of it as Necromancy so much as soul searching." His joke has earned the chortles of Elenwen's men and when she glared back at them they quickly straightened themselves out.

"That joke was in poor taste." Said Elenwen disapprovingly. "So how is it that you have come to be in possession of this artifact?"

"After the Oblivion Crisis; my ancestor; did battle against an Altmer calling himself Mannimarco. Whether it was the real Mannimarco or some copycat is irrelevant; what matters is that it was my ancestor who took up the staff to keep it from malicious intent and it has been passed down from generation to generation since."

"You have a very interesting family lineage Arch Mage." Said Elenwen. "Tell me, exactly how much has your ancestor that you speak so highly and fondly of influenced you?"

"More than I can allow you to know." Sigmund claimed.

"Oh really?" Responded Elenwen feeling challenged. "And what is going to keep me from it. Let me enlighten you Arch Mage that when I want something; I get it."

"Well I'd hate to inform you First Emissary that my family history is not up for debate." He said stepping closer to Elenwen. "You can't have it."

"You know," She said taking a few close steps herself. "I used to be an interrogator before becoming First Emissary."

"Is that a fact?" Sigmund challenged with a suggestive smirk.

"Very much and I have a plethora of methods to make people talk."

Their faces were mere inches away from another and they both could feel their hearts beating beneath their chests for they both found each-other challenging and exciting. They elicited a set of reactions that neither of them had expected and both were having fun with it.

"You shouldn't threaten me with a good time, First Emissary." He spoke in a hushed tone and Elenwen could feel his breath on her skin. "I do enjoy games."

"It's not a game. It's a promise."

"Don't make promises in the realm of uncertainty." His voice was low and deep. "It could lead you to disastrous roads."

Elenwen shook her head slowly. "Do you have any idea as to the notion of how seductive you are?" They were quiet and merely stared at each other with challenging glances before Elenwen told her men to leave the room and stand guard. Her men looked at one another and hesitated for they did not like what they knew was about to happen once they left but they had no choice and so they did and made sure that no one would disturb them should anyone come.

Sigmund and Elenwen were together first fumbling for they both had enough to drink and then holding on tight as they kissed long and hungry kisses. Sigmund could smell her perfume and taste the wine on her breath and tongue which added kindle to his fire and then he began to loosen the straps that held her coat over her shoulders.

They began to move behind the partition, slowly, but they were moving as Sigmund undid the last strap and she felt her jacket fall to ground. Elenwen flipped her fingers through his thick, springy hair then locked at the back of his neck. Her thumbs stroked his stubble covered chin; reveling in the entrancing ruggedness of it. He slipped his hand first beneath then around the fullness of her breast.

Smiling as she kissed him, Elenwen said, "Adventurous I see."

Through labored breath Sigmund replied, "I have lead expeditions." Then squeezed her breast gently and continued to kiss her.

In their kissing they had failed to mind their way and Sigmund's calf had bumped into his bedframe and he along with Elenwen fell onto his bed. Their fall had not disturbed them for Elenwen had kept kissing him; her lips fastening to his, dry and methodical.

Sigmund pushed Elenwen up leaving her long, blonde hair in front of her face, He brushed it away and then licked her dry lips with the tip of his tongue and she returned the favor with her own. Sigmund began to slowly move his hand up and down the length of her, taking in the feel of her back in his hands and moved it lower, the fabric of her cloths whispering under his palm until he stopped to leave his hands resting on her ample bottom. Feeling obligated, Elenwen slipped her fingers into his belt and then moved her hands to the front where the buckle was.

They made love, not monstrous, rabid love like animals in heat but deep and passionate love that the truly experienced knew to savor and enjoy. Sigmund slept with women and never cared to keep any of them but he loved to treat each and every one of them and make sure that they were satisfied despite what he wanted in that instant because, what he wanted was to go fast and to plunge deep; for the gripping sensation of a woman's warmth was maddeningly hypnotizing for men, but still he went slow at least at first.

His thrusts were still slow but he went deeper into her. "Oh divines, yes!" Elenwen sighed breathlessly and wrapped her legs around his waist. He continued this pace and Elenwen dug her nails into his back and scratched at his skin. "More." She demanded and Sigmund obliged.

Sigmund, in all experience, did all that his mind craved which to his good fortune drove Elenwen to the sky and back. "Oh, divines! Oh, dear divines! OH SIGMUND!"

In an instant Elenwen forced Sigmund on his back and took his place on top. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast and forced him to hold it there by keeping her hand over his as she broke wreck. Sigmund sat up and placed kisses along the side of her neck and moved down to the space in between her breasts. It lasted for several minutes until her body started to shake and she fell forward as her orgasm writhed over her body and Sigmund followed suit, forcing himself to pull away and ejaculated as courteously as he could manage on her inner thigh, while leaning forward eager to kiss Elenwen a last time before collapsing beside her in a state of ultimate bliss.

Exhausted and breathing heavily, Elenwen laid next to Sigmund with her arm over his chest while Sigmund held her with one arm and dazed empty mindedly at the ceiling.

"That was," Elenwen said in between breaths, "the best I've had in a long time."

After a chuckle Sigmund said, "I aim to please, First Emissary."

"Please," She was still breathless. "Call me Elenwen." With some amount of effort, she lifted herself up with her arms and looked at Sigmund and the way her hair hung down one half of her face and the beautiful feminine curvature of her body made Sigmund want to take her again. "And as for my and the Thalmor's support; consider it done once we've worked out our terms."

A long time ago, Sigmund once heard that there were two great tragedies in life. One, was not getting what you wanted and the other was getting it. Most times he had agreed with this but there were those few occasions where they best thing that could have happened was indeed getting what you set out for and Sigmund considered this night a complete success.

"Thank you, Elenwen." He responded with a smile and gently taking her hand in his.

"You're very welcome. But, if you really want to thank me than you will have to take me one more time before the dawn sets."

Getting what you wanted was not always a bad thing and Sigmund believed that with more certainty than he ever thought possible. So, before the night was over he made love to Elenwen one more time just as she wanted.

* * *

Let me just pull out the ole' checklist real quick.

Chekhov's gun? Check.

Make great use of euphemisms, synonyms and stand-ins? Check.

Albert Camus? Check. Ooops! Never mind. Scratch that one because he's been dead since 1960.

I have to say that there are things in this chapter that I have never written before ever but I have done what I can. Stay tuned my friends because next chapter will be what we've been building up towards for a little bit now. Northwatch Keep. There's a lot I plan to do with it and I am excited to get started.

For now I leave you with this and I will be back with the next chapter hopefully soon.


	9. The Negative One (Part 1)

There was a foul odor in the air. A queer, mingled stench that only the moss covered stone of a sea side fort could know, compounded of reeking sweat, and the suffocating, musty scent of piss and salty sea water. Between that and the hard taste of blood on his tongue; Thorald Gray-Mane had hardly a sense left to him. His hands were shackled to the hard, stone wall by the wrists that burned with irritation from the rusty metal of the binds that held him and had caused his wrists to turn purple and red from the scrapping and pulling. His arms had gone numb for he was perpetually leaned forward and his throat was very dry, for he hadn't had anything to drink for what seemed the longest time.

He could not see from his left eye for it had swollen big and sickly purple. His cheek was bruised, the bridge of his nose was cut and his lip bled, as did his gums. His stomach was sore from the punches that he had received from the torture that he was currently receiving from the Thalmor. They wanted information but he refused to betray his brothers and sisters in Ulfric Stormcloak's army. He would rather die one thousand painful deaths before such a betrayal could ever happen.

Nothing could be heard in that dungeon save for the loud packing sounds of a fist striking bare flesh and the grunts and shouts of a defeated, tired man who had only the thoughts of home and family to bring him comfort. He thought of his father and uncle the two who were the pillars of his life. The men he always wanted to be like in his youth and always hoped he could make proud. He thought of his siblings, of his brother who he played with as a boy and of his sister who he had teased a lot growing up but who he loved very dearly and hoped was doing okay.

He spat blood onto the floor, The Thalmor that beat him; a tall and rather broadly built Altmer named Lindel; grabbed a fistful of his hair and Thorald grunted, revealing his blood stained teeth. Thorald's body shook; his breathing was irregular and sounded like he was trying to suppress a coughing fit with every breath. He looked Lindel in the eye and spat in his face which earned him another few long minutes of beatings.

A wooden door opened and its creaking bellowed down the corridor like a beast that had yet to be seen but lurked in the darkness. The door closed and the soft tapping of finely made boots followed and they were getting closer and closer before whoever the footsteps belonged too came to a stop right ahead of them.

"Raise your eyes and look at The Justiciar." Ordered Lindel that was beating him only seconds ago but the polite way in which he spoke was very odd. Like it was sympathetic of his current circumstances for it was said in a soft and gentle tone that was soothing to the ears.

Thorald did as he was told and saw an elf dressed like many other Thalmor that he had seen and heard of that it made no difference to him, but there was something different about him. He kept his hands in his pockets and his head was slightly slumped down like one might see a tired man do. His cheekbones were high and pronounced and his shoulder length hair appeared to be almost white. But, his eyes were the most telling for his orange eyes were like staring into an empty jar for there was a soullessness to his glare; his abysmally empty glare.

"You're trembling." Stated the Justiciar slowly in a deep and raspy voice. "Get him some water." He said before grabbing a plane wooden chair and sitting on it. He crossed his legs and set his hands in his lap. Lindel helped keep Thorald's head up while he drank the water in audible gulps. The sudden soaking of his throat caused him to cough harshly but he relished it for his thirst was very great.

"Who are you?" Thorald asked.

"Svengali." Responded he after a brief silence and despite the time that they have had Thorald within the keep; it was actually the first time that Svengali had introduced himself to the man. "But who I am is not important Thorald." Thorald lowered his head and could no longer hold his eyes open for he was tired and wanted to rest, but he could not sleep. "You know what is going to happen now, don't you?"

Thorald knew for he had been warned of the consequences for not cooperating many times. They have made all the offers that they could conjure in exchange for what insight on the Stormcloak's that he could have known and he defied them.

"Unless, however you give us what we want, Thorald." Svengali said. "You have family do you not? Do you wish to see them again? Or, would you rather them go mad over the grief they will feel over their loss of you?" Svengali leaned forward on his chair resting both arms on his legs. "I'm going to offer you one last chance, Thorald. Make the right choice."

Silently; tears fell from Thorald's eyes. Not from his current predicament or fear of his life but of not being able to see his family one last time. "Do your worst you stinking elves!" Said Thorald defiantly. "My family will be proud that I never gave in to you." He smiled with spite and of longing for his family. "You can never break me."

Svengali sighed in frustration and moved his hand over his hair before standing up and saying, "You Nord's are brave. That is the only credit that I can give you because though you are brave, your people are unbelievably stupid." Svengali looked at Lindel and silently nodded his head.

Lindel unsheathed his dagger which was of Elven make and pulled back on Thorald's hair to lift his head up and reveal his neck which Lindel pressed his knife against firmly to ensure a deep cut. With a quick pull back of the blade, the knife sliced through Thorald's neck and thick drops of blood spilled and collectively pooled onto the ground in pronounced tapping sounds. Thorald produced sick, wet coughing sounds as he bled. Before all life drained from his body, Thorald utter one last phrase. "Sovngarde awaits me." Then he died with a smile that neither Lindel or Svengali noticed.

"His beliefs were certainly strong." Lindel commented.

He looked over to Svengali who stared blankly at Thorald before turning his empty gaze to him and saying, "There's nothing in this world worth believing." Then he left leaving Lindel in a state on wonderment.

Some distance outside of Northwatch Keep in dense snow that covered most of the land; Annie was laying down on her back looking at the night sky with her hands underneath her head in admiration at the stars on a cold, hard piece of rock that jutted out from the mountain. Vilkas was out surveying the area to see if there were any other ways into the Keep which Annie; if she were to turn around; could see from a descent birds eye view except the left hand corner of the Keep.

She'd forgotten how long she had been waiting for Vilkas to return and figured that he could take all the time he needed for she was strangely comfortable as she was, despite the cold which all together was not that bad and was thoroughly enjoying her time star gazing. A stiff breeze blew on by but Annie hardly noticed for she was wearing fur gloves over her hands and a cloak to help fight against the chill of the wind. Her staff was laying over her chest and she focused on the feel of its weight upon her with each breath she took and again she thought it was oddly comforting.

Falling pebbles and rocks followed by the deep and quiet grunts of a man climbing up the mountain side were heard and Vilkas raised himself onto the rock that Annie was laying on revealing that he was the culprit behind the noise. His hands and feet were covered in snow and his white fur cloak was peppered in it. He sat down next to Annie and huffed a frustrated breath which told Annie everything that she needed to know. Annie had spent enough time with him by now to know his body language.

"Nothing." Annie stated flatly.

"Nothing." Echoed Vilkas. "No tunnels, windows, anything. There are onto two ways in or out and they are both well-guarded by Thamlor soldiers and the courtyard is constantly patrolled and in sight. The only way in is to fight our way in."

"And you do not want to do that, I take it."

"Not at all." Vilkas looked back over the Fort and said, "The weight of the consequences that could follow if we fail will be great and we would only make it worse by killing them."

Annie lifted her legs up in the air and then sat up. "You're not wrong, Vilkas. Nice to see that your sharp mind has not become dull in all of the downtime that you've had. I told Kodlak something similar about the dangers of this job, but he tried justifying all of this with some talk about being honourable and paying back old favors. A bunch of rubbish if you ask me." Annie's last sentence she spoke in a quieter tone as if she meant that only for herself to hear. "But, I do think we should go on with it."

"You do?" Vilkas asked in more surprise than doubt.

"Oh yes!" Annie turned over onto her hands and knees and peaked over at the Fort looking like a predator spying on its prey. "Because I find this very, very exciting."

"I take it you have a plan then?" Annie looked at him with a beaming grin like that of a child's.

At the back entrance of Northwatch Keep there stood a guard at the back entrance. He was fixed and unmoving like a statue sculpted from the hands of a master artist and ever listening for any disturbances that did not belong. He kept his eyes on the ocean just some yards away and allowed the image to transport his mind back to the beaches of his beloved home in Summerset. He missed the temperate climate, the sand of its beaches beneath his feet and the plush, colourful and beautiful flowers exclusive to Summerset and it alone.

How dearly he missed his home and wanted nothing more than to return to it, but service and duty; that if which he was bred for; kept him from it and all for the glory of his race. It was a terrible privilege in the hearts and minds of many of them.

As he gazed out to the water he noticed a set of bubbles begin to burst forth from the water not far from the shoreline and it soon became something more turbulent like something from a hot spring for it the bubbles increased in density and a kind of steam almost seemed to rise from it. That's when he saw something terrible and hideous in intent rise from the dark, murky waters of the ocean just feet from the shoreline.

It was huge, polymorphous, and loathsome. Black tendrils lashed out and whipped the air from its back before coiling back up like angry serpents. It darted like a stupendous monster of nightmares to the shoreline, about which it flailed its giant, scaly, mucus covered arms, while it bowed its hideous head and gave vent to certain measurable, shrill sounding roars which garnered the attention of all outside patrolmen forcing them to abandon their posts and investigate the shrill before all that was heard was the drawing of swords and the blood curdling screams of men.

Vilkas and Annie peaked their heads through the front entrance of the fort before sneaking their way both with their weapons drawn attentions alert.

"Are those elves going to be okay?" Asked Vilkas feeling sorry for them.

"Physically yes for it's simply an illusion of my own design that they are facing. But, I cannot say the same of their minds for they will surely be damaged."

"What are they seeing that I can't?"

"You would rather not know, for its very gruesome to behold."

"Must speak volumes about the one who conjured it." Vilkas said looking at Annie.

"Oh Vilkas, how you jest!"

They made their way past the condensed snow that had been caused by countless feet trotting upon it that covered the courtyard and to the only door into the building. The Thalmor were genius to pick this location for one of their bases for there were very limited means of entry. They stepped through and closed the doors behind them where then they found themselves in room of old, moss covered stone held together with wooden supports against the walls. Old, rotted pieces of furniture with cob webs stationed in every crevice decorated the room save for a single mantle that held the head of a mighty snow bear.

Voices echoed from down the staircase ahead of them. Annie and Vilkas took cover on either side of the portal and before Vilkas shouted, "Hey, we have an emergency! We need help!" They heard the sudden grinding of a wooden chair against the stone floor and two sets of footsteps coming the stair way.

They let the first soldier pass through and Vilkas suddenly sprung forth at the second one by tackling him against the ground. The second soldier turned while attempting to draw his weapon but Annie stopped him by pushing her hand against his swords pummel and grabbing it before it was completely drawn then kicked the soldier against the chest with the bottom of her foot. He was pushed away and his sword was now in Annie's hands and she was holding it at him along her staff with glowed with magic ready to be used.

Vilkas still struggled with the second guard whose helmet had fallen off in the struggle. The Altmer was laying against the ground trying to push Vilkas off but was met with little success and settled for laying punches against his face. Vilkas took the hits for his hold never wavered and he thrust his forehead forward as hard as he could and it collided with the altmers. A hollow, packing sound erupted in Vilkas's ears and the Altmer fell limp with unconsciousness.

The defeat of his comrade did nothing to frighten the Altmer that Annie currently had facing the wall with both hands upon it. He was reserved and collected and showed not a single shred of nervousness. He was willing to face the possibilities of death with dignity; much like her father. She could still remember seeing her father when she was child standing tall and proud; clad in golden armor. He was the embodiment of a warrior and carried a warrior's heart and spirit.

"If you continue further into the keep;" Spoke the Dominion soldier. "you will not get out alive."

"I do enjoy challenges." Annie retorted in a confidant tone.

"You're of my kind, lady. You should know what happens when you square up to the Dominion."

"That's what makes this whole endeavor so exhilarating!" Annie replied clasping both of her hands together and doing a small jump on her tip-toes in total negligence that the soldier had not caught on to before she struck the back of the soldiers head with the pummel of his sword. He fell forward and landed on his side next to the wall. Annie knelt down and checked his pulse which was very healthy.

"He'll be just fine." Claimed Annie.

"Let's get moving, Annie." Vilkas stated. "Stay behind me and back me up should anyone else catch us." Annie nodded and they went down the stairs.

They came into a long hallway divided by a small circular room in the middle that had stone columns built into the wall that went to the ceiling and met in the center where an unlit, metal chandler hung. Iron pots filled with smoldering coals with glimmered red provided any heat to be had in this place. There was a table to their right where many empty bottles of wine standing to a wooden keg. Most of the empty bottles were old and whatever small drips of wine were left therein were nothing but flakes hardly distinguishable from dust.

At the end of the hallway there was another descending stairwell that had a fire place in built into the wall of the left at the middle platform of the stairs. Vilkas advanced along the stairwell in slow, methodical steps; his sword tightly gripped in his hand and his eyes and ears in constant focus and alertness. Annie simply followed him in the same manner as he did with her staff held behind her and her ebony sword still in its sheath, with their long black, shadows streaming upwards up the wall to their right and then in front of them as they passed the fire place.

For some time, they travel downwards through moss covered corridors and stairwells where cobwebs consumed whole sides of walls like a hungry fungus with the darkness of the corridors being only briefly interrupted by the odd lit fireplace that came to Annie as a welcome embrace as the warmth of fire smoothly rubbed against her skin until the cold darkness returned and a subtle chill crept up her arms.

They turned into another corridor where they could see at the end of a tunnel flickering shadows being cast by a light from somewhere therein. Slowly and as quietly as possibly, Vilkas crept down the corridor with Annie walking behind him keeping close at his heels where then Vilkas's hearing turned its focus to her and he heard the beating of her heart and it was rapid. Fear did not show on her face, only alertness and Vilka's saw something in her eyes that he hadn't seen before; a sense of life. Before, they held more of a contemptible dimness like a lantern without a flame that hinted at the inner darkness that Vilkas felt was within her.

Vilkas understood now that she truly was excited to be here. He saw that this and the possible consequences was nothing more than a thrill for her.

They peaked their heads passed the rim of the corridor where the light glimmered and saw before them a kind of eatery complete with a bar and three simply wooden tables; each with three old, rickety looking chairs with only one of which being occupied by a single Thalmor Justiciar. He had his back turned the hallway where Vilkas and Annie stood and they could hear the little scratching sounds of a quill on paper.

No words were whispered for they didn't need to. Vilkas and Annie looked at one another and nodded to one another before they silently crept down the hallway with held breaths towards the Justiciar who sat unknowing until the door ahead opened and a Thalmor soldier walked in holding a dossier in hands. Annie and Vilkas swiftly backed themselves up against the corridor wall hoping that they were not seen.

Annie peaked passed the wall and saw the Thalmor soldier that walked in was big for an Altmer for his build resembled that of a Nord's. Annie slowly leaned back against the wall again. She wasn't seen.

"Have you brought what I need, Lindel?" The Justiciar spoke and Annie hardened her brows and her eyes passed over the floor like she was looking for a small insect for the voice of the Justiciar sounded very familiar. She couldn't guess as to why, but the sound of his voice echoed in her mind like a ghost from a distant dream that she had long forgotten about.

"Yes; the dossier on the rest of the Gray-Mane clan." Lindel passed over the dossier and stood with crossed arms. "Messy bit of business this."

"It's what is necessary. He was a blasphemer and died a blasphemer. In the end he deserved nothing less."

Vilkas closed his eyes and a kind of emptiness washed over his body and sympathy filled his heart. He had hoped that when they arrived that Thorald would still be alive and they would be able to save him and reunite him with his family for Eorland's sake if not for anything else. Vilkas hoped that when the Gray-Manes learned of Thorlad's death that they would be able to forgive him for not being able to save him.

"Still." Said Lindel. "He had family. Hard to imagine losing a son."

"Best just to move passed it." Svengali said opening the dossier and skimming through it. "He was a Nord; and Nords – like all races of men – will one day be nothing more than a forgotten memory and mer will one day reign supreme like we had before. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Justiciar Svengali."

Life was sometimes to random for Annie's liking. When she heard that name; Svengali; she inhaled deeply and it all came back to her and she now understood why his voice was so familiar to her.

From where they came, Vilkas and Annie heard the audible cries and yells of men running into the keep and they were heading their way. Annie closed her eyes and smirked where as Vilkas drew his sword in preparation which also drew the attention and Svengali and Lindel. They turned and saw Annie and Vilkas standing with their backs to the walls. Svengali looked at them as if confused and Lindel drew his own blade.

"Step into the light where we can see you, intruders!" Lindel ordered.

Slowly yet with calm and composure Annie stepped into the room and revealed herself to them. She did not hold her hands up or drop her staff and elected to keep it held in her hand. She showed no fear or hesitation and she wore a smirk on her lips.

Svengali looked at her with wide open eyes for he felt that he was looking at a phantom that had come back from the shadows of the past. Never in his life could even he predict the outcome that life had in store and Annie felt very much the same way.

The men that Annie had attacked outside with her magic came running down the hall covered in wounds and blood. Two were holding one by the arms for he was greatly wounded and they came to abrupt stop when they cast their gazes at Annie and Vilkas.

Some held their weapons out about to run for the offensive but Vilkas held a defensive stance against them and they held still waiting for orders from Svengali.

"What are you doing here, Linilwe?" Asked Svengali holding to a very hard expression. Annie's expression softened to one of more casual delight in response and it was off putting for Vilkas.

"Linilwe." Echoed Annie. "Now there's a name I haven't heard in a very long time. Like remembering an old memory that was lost long ago."

Svengali smirked then chuckled. "They always say that in your last moments you see your entire life play before your very eyes."

"That's just old rubbish to me." Annie responded still holding her smirk. "An excuse for those looking for proof that their lives meant something."

"Hmm… you're just like your father." Stated Svengali. "He didn't agree with me either." Annie's expression changed then at the mention of her father; her eyes dimmed and her smirk disappeared. "He was always reckless and stubborn."

Annie tightened her grip on her staff and in a dark tone said, "You keep mentions of my father away from your tongue if you know what's best."

"You never figured out why or how he died did you? I could tell you?"

"Sir; I do not think this is the appropriate time for this." Mentioned Lindel and Svengali just raised his hand to ignore him.

Vilkas leaned back towards Annie and he could feel the turmoil within her. He had never seen her like this before and was greatly confused about everything that was going on but he didn't have the patience for that now. He turned his head to her and whispered, "Annie, if you're going to do something – do it fast." He was growing anxious for he could see that the elves to their back were eager to get back at them for what Annie had put them through.

"You think my father was reckless?" Annie lifted her gaze and sheer anger emanated from her eyes like watching a wild fire burn a forest to the ground. "FOOL! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT RECKLESS IS!"

Annie swiftly turned and pointed the gem of her staff towards the elves behind her and Vilkas and a red aura of magic grew quickly bright before disappearing and the elves suddenly broke out into a fight amongst themselves which started when one of them cut the throat of another without hesitation. Annie and Vilkas ran out from the hall and into the eatery as the Thalmor soldiers brought the fight closer to them and the whole room erupted into chaos. Because of Annie's magic; friends were killing friends and devoted soldiers were being cut down by Svengali and Lindel. Chairs were thrown across the room and tables were tossed aside. Glass bottles shattered and wooden kegs were being used as weapons.

"Lindel! Go get the rest of the troops! We need backup!" Ordered Svengali.

"Yes sir!" Responded Lindel who ran out of the room from where he came and Vilkas sheathed his sword gave him chase leaving Annie alone with Svengali and the madness induced Thalmor she had caused.

Vilkas turned down several corridors and was steadily catching up with Lindel. When he was close enough Vilkas jumped, grabbing around Lindel's waist and pushing against his back. They fell and tumbled across the floor making them both somewhat dizzy but they shrugged it off as best as they could and drew their swords.

Lindel strafed from left to right and swung for Vilkas's neck. Vilkas leaned back to avoid it and Lindel swung his sword downward which Vilkas blocked with his own and grunted when the swords made contact. He then tried to kick one of Lindel's legs. Lindel stepped aside and Vilkas continued his attack, thrusting his sword upward for the bottom of Lindel's jaw. He missed as Lindel stepped to the side and Vilkas tried a horizontal sweep for his neck which Lindel blocked. Vilkas lastly tried a sweep for Lindel's leg but Lindel lifted his leg then elbowed Vilkas in the nose.

Stepping back; Vilkas shook his head to collect himself then wiped his upper lip with his wrist where he saw a fresh smear of blood.

"You're good." Said Lindel. "But you're not an elf."

"Don't need to be." Vilkas responded

Lindel ran for him and made several sweeps with his sword which Vilkas chose to dodge from instead of block so to conserve his energy and tried to look for an opening which none were presented for this elf was clearly a very experienced soldier.

Lindel swung his sword downward again and Vilkas caught his arm by the wrist to stop him then tried to then tried a downward strike himself and Lindel caught his wrist and neither were letting go. "Annie said you Altmer soldiers were born for this." Vilkas said with a hint of respect.

Lindel smiled and said, "And, she'd be right." Vilkas raised an eyebrow and felt a tingle in his wrist that was being held by Lindel before it began to hurt and he quickly felt a violent shock go through his body. Vilkas tried to refrain but he lifted his head, his veins bulging from his neck and head, and screamed as the electric current shot through his body.

When the current finally stopped Vilkas slumped over and he grunted and Lindel grabbed him by his shoulders then head butted him hard and Vilkas fell back, too weak to stand back up. Lindel sheathed his sword then rubbed his wrist as he said, "We Dominion Soldiers are trained in many fields of combat from the time we're able to hold a blade. Magic is just another weapon at our disposal. We're the perfect soldiers." He finished with stomping his heal against Vilkas's temple causing him to fall unconscious before running off to find and assist Svengali who was currently locked in combat with Annie.

They were in a two level room that had been damaged with age. Large boulders and ruble stood at an incline against the wall and the stairs were badly withered and moss covered. Annie and Svengali were fighting on the stairwell and Annie thrust her staff forward while holding her ebony blade in her other hand and tried to use magic. Svengali stepped to the side, grabbed the staff and elbowed Annie against the mouth where she let go of her staff and Svengali discarded it by throwing down to the lower level.

Tasting fresh blood on her tongue, Annie swung her sword downward which Svengali blocked with his own and so Annie moved her arm in a circular motion, dragging and lifting Svengali's sword with it. Their swords made a shrill sound as their blades slid against one another and Annie created an opening then quickly swiped her sword, cutting into his arm causing little drops of blood to fly in the direction as the tip of her sword during the swing.

Svengali showed no reaction to his arm being cut and returned with strong and powerful attacks of his own; one of which barely missing her cheek, making a small cut which still bled generously. Svengali stepped forward, setting his foot behind Annie's then pushed her down causing her to trip and fall. She hit the back of her head, the hard stone floor causing her vision to flash white briefly. She managed to maintain her grip on her sword but couldn't lift it in time for Svengali impaled her to the ground by thrusting his sword through her shoulder. Her blood traveled down from the wound and stained her robes a shade of crimson.

Annie's vision was blurry and she squinted her eyes to try and focus but it hardly worked. The back of her head and eyes throbbed, her shoulder stung immensely and any movement only made it worse. Her breathing was fast paced and her chest heaved with every breath.

With a smirk, Svengali said, "I wish you could see yourself, Linilwe. You look just like your father did when he was in the position that you're in now. Like the old saying; the apple doesn't fall to far from the tree. Do you ever wonder what goes through the minds of others just before they die? I do. I wondered what your father thought about as he took his last breath. I bet it was wonderful. I hope it was." Annie did not want too, and she tried to fight it but could not find the power to keep her eyes crying tears of grievance and longing. "Otherwise where's the glory in dying if all you can think about in that moment is nothing that brings peace."

"Death is peace." Annie responded. "Death is the reward for living."

Svengali's eyes opened wide with anger and through bared teeth shouted, "THEN WHY DO WE LIVE AT ALL!"

Annie summoned what remained of her strength and thrust her sword forward into Svengali's shoulder. He stepped back, his blood sliding down the blade before dripping from it. He pulled it free from his shoulder as Annie pulled his sword from her own shoulder. Svengali then fiercely wrapped his hand around her face and squeezed as hard as he could manage with a sinister grin. Both grunted as Svengali raised her face to his own before he threw her down the lower floor and she fell into the pile of rocks, grunting with each impact when she collided with stone and rock and she landed hard onto the hard stone floor broken, weak and defeated.

Her whole body was now sore and she struggled to breath. Her back and head ached the most with throbbing pain and a cold burning. Her shoulder stung and she could feel her blood trickle down her back and shoulder. She tried to lift her arm but hadn't the strength to move it passed a budge. She found it funny that something as easy as moving a finger now felt as impossible as pushing a mountain. She grew tired as she bled out for her eyes were growing increasingly heavy and all she could see was the blurry image of the gray stone floor on which she was laying and Svengali walking up to her passed the hazy image of liquid on her eyes from her tears. Before everything went black; she felt a single tear slide down her cheek in an oddly comforting way and all she could think about was her father.

* * *

I hope you've enjoyed this.

I would like to take a moment to thank any and all who have followed and favourited, it really means a lot to me. And, I would like to thank those who take the time to review (whether it's positive or critical) because it is serious encouragement. You all keep me motivated and help me push myself to make sure that each chapter is enjoyable.

Part 2 coming soon. ;)


	10. The Negative One (Part 2)

I wanted to have this one up sooner but I unexpectedly met some difficulties along the way, but here it is and I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

He sat down, one leg over the other and his arm over the back of the chair, watching Annie as she slept and occasionally slipped to and from consciousness. They were in a cell in the dungeon. It was dark for there were no windows and he brought no candle with him. Svengali had put a bed in this cell for Annie to lay in before they locked her in. She was in a damaged state and needed to rest. It was the least he felt he could do for her. She must have been dreaming for her breathing was hard and her face showed a kind of distress as she hardened her brows and uttered silent things to herself. Svengali slid his chair closer to her and he leaned his ear closer to make out what she was saying and though it was hard to hear he made out single word. Papa.

Svengali leaned back in his chair and threw both of his arms over the back this time, his left shoulder gave a painful, stinging throb as he did but he was able to ignore it, and looked up at the ceiling. He silently chuckled to himself and remembered back to the times he shared with her father in fondness. He and Annie's father fought side by side one another during The Great War. They were like brothers if Svengali was honest with himself and they always had each other's backs. Svengali looked up to him. He was a staple of what the Dominion was and he lead by example. He was fearless and tactical; a master swordsman and an inspiration for them all. His only problem was that his heart was too soft and the dominion and The Great War held no room for soft heartedness. That was why he died.

"Angamar." Sighed Svengali in a low and drawn out tone.

Looking back even further, Svengali would have never been able to predict that of which was going to happen. He remembered back during his and Angamar's younger years when Angamar first invited him to his house back on Summerset and when he first met his family. Annie and her older sister were but children then. Svengali remembered that Annie was a shy child that hid behind her father's leg who could never make contact; not even with members of her own family from what he had witnessed. Svengali had knelt down on one leg and said hello to her but she kept silent.

" _Linilwe doesn't speak much."_ Angamar had told him before lifting Annie up and holding her where she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. _"She prefers to observe."_

" _A bit unusual for a child."_ Svengali had said.

" _Yes."_ Angamar replied while also running a hand down Annie's hair with a smile. And Svengali could see how much he loved her. _"Speech has always been difficult for her and usually only talks to me. We don't know why but we don't fault her for it."_

That was the first time he had met Annie. Seemed like so much more time had passed before then and now than what really had passed. The memory to him was like finding an old painting in the back of an old, dark and dusty hallway that he knew was there because he deliberately placed it there with the goal to let it rot for it no longer served any kind of purpose and was better off being forgotten in the darkness; until now that was.

Svengali had only seen Annie and her sister one last time after Angamar's death. Annie's older sister had left to pursue what she must have felt life had to offer her and Annie then was still in process of maturing into womanhood of which she had done well; as what could be expected of an Altmer. She was no longer the shy little girl with plump, little hands and round, chubby cheeks that he had first met. She was now something more; something beautiful; and something dangerous.

Annie stirred; her eyelids clenched and she bared her teeth as she awakened to consciousness. She opened her eyes and her eyes moved from side to side as she tried to deduce exactly where she was. Her vision was still fuzzy and the room felt like it was moving; swaying from side to side like a boat on the waves of an otherwise calm sea. Her disorientation added emphasis to her nausea and she almost lost a fight with her stomach when she felt the contents thereof urging to be let out until she quelled it.

Shutting her eyes and blinking repeatedly she regained some accuracy of eyesight and looked around the room more carefully and saw she was lying in a bed in a cold, dark and malodorous cell that stank of wet moss and body odor with a hint of excrement caused likely by rats or skeevers.

"Is this," Annie paused for her voice was course and her throat was dry. She swallowed with some effort then said, "Oblivion?"

"No." Svengali replied. "You're still in Northwatch Keep."

A dull ache revealed itself in Annie's shoulder and as she was about to lift her hand up to it; she felt something heavy and metallic around her wrists. She lifted her arms out from the covers of the furs that covered her body and discovered that her wrists had been shackled together. Still she placed her hands on her shoulder for though she was bound, she wasn't bound to any surface which allowed more freedom of movement.

She ran her hand lower and felt bandaging around her shoulder and torso. She looked down and saw that her robes were missing and she was left topless save for the bandaging that covered her. She looked even lower and breathed a contented sigh when she realized she at least still had her pants, so there was still some dignity to be had despite her current circumstances.

"Why are you keeping me alive?" Asked Annie morosely.

"Do not get me wrong Linilwe; if it were anybody else I would have left them to bleed to death but when you suddenly appeared before me the way that you did; some might call it fate; some would have called it the will of the eight divines or whatever ridiculous occurrence of nature people choose to believe. But," Svengali stood up from his chair and winced when he moved his shoulder this time and moved to the other end of the cell and leaned against the wall with one foot set against it.

"But, that would be ridiculous." Annie finished for him.

"Yes." Svengali affirmed. "Chance can certainly be cruel. As if something is trying to remind me of things that I had forgotten about. Even crueler is after what you have done here, killing your own people; without cause or reason and without remorse; I wanted you to die. But, something," Svengali pointed to his head, "in the back of my mind told me something different. To maybe give you a chance to redeem yourself."

Svengali whistled and from somewhere within the same hallway, they heard the clanking of keys and the grinding of an iron door opening before it slammed shut. Armoured footsteps came closer and then the dim silhouettes of Lindel and other Thalmor soldiers came to Annie's cell. They unlocked it and entered whilst dragging a weakened man by the arms and dropping at the side of Annie's bed. It was Vilkas and he had been stripped of his armour and weapons. He stood only on his hands and knees and that was a good enough sign for Annie that she felt relief fill her heart and mind.

"Vil…" Annie almost shouted his name out loud but suddenly thought better of it. Assuming Vilkas hadn't already told them, which she doubted highly, she knew that the less Svengali knew of them the better.

Annie knelt down next to him and placed her bound hands on his bare back which was bleeding with fresh whip marks. "What do you want, Svengali?" She asked turning to look at him with an angry expression.

"I want you to prove to me that you are still worthy of being an Altmer." Svengali answered. "I want you to kill him."

Annie looked at him in wide eyed disbelief then hardened her glare and slowly shook her head as she said, "You're out of your mind Svengali."

Svengali snatched her wrists and slowly stuck the key to her irons into the lock and with one twist of the key the irons came undone they fell to the ground with a clank. Annie rubbed her wrists and Svengali produced her ebony blade that was being held in its sheath and tossed it on the bed. "Kill him – I will let you free and all that you have done here will be forgiven. Of this, I promise you. If not, then the both of you will rot in this cell for the rest of your lives."

"Annie!" Vilkas uttered through labored breath unsure if she would actually kill him or not. He did not fear death, but he did not wish to die like this. He always imagined himself dying in combat with his sword in his hands and his armour upon his body. That was what he lived and breathed for; if not dying on the battle field and living his years to old age, he would still be content in knowing that he died as he lived; as a warrior.

"What makes you think I care whether I live or die?"

"Of course you care." Svengali replied confidentially. "Unless you're that stupid."

At first she was quiet and surveyed the ground as if it was going to reveal the answer for her and so she was forced to contemplate it. She closed her eyes and took herself to the back of her mind and found what she needed to get through this.

Slowly Annie reached for her sword while moving with agony to sit back on her bed. She held her sword out in front of her, gripped the handle tightly and pulled it free from its sheath. The sound of it making Vilkas more and more anxious. Annie stood, ran her thumb over the blade delicately and stopped when she saw blood coming from the appendage. "DO IT!" Svengali ordered with a shout. Annie jumped slightly and slowly lowered the blade to the nape of Vilkas's neck.

She stared emptily at Vilkas and felt her heart thumping madly beneath her breast. She could kill him and leave. It would not be the first time that she had ever done it. She had experience in murder. But, as she continued to observe Vilkas; seeing him like this with his back whipped to nothing more than deep, bloody lashes; she for some reason heard Kodlak's voice inside of her head.

" _Is this what you want, Annie? Do you think that this is going to be worth it?"_ Annie faced away, her eyes downcast and her jaws clenched. She had made a final decision and she resigned to sliding her sword back within its sheath.

"What are you doing?" Svengali asked with wide open eyes and disbelief in his voice.

"If there is one thing I can't stand Svengali, is people trying to tell me what I should do." Annie clothed her sword back in its sheath. "I am not about to play into your game. Not now. Not ever." Annie turned and held her sword out to him.

Svengali snatched the sword from her hand and held it out for Lindel to take it. When he no longer had the sword he quickly and unexpectedly slapped his hand against Annie's injured shoulder and squeezed tightly.

Annie's shut her eyes tightly and she cried out in pain. Svengali pushed her back and she landed backwards on the bed and Svengali sat on top of her, holding her down. Annie grabbed at his wrist and tried to pull it away but as she did, Svengali only squeezed tighter and she felt the wound re-open when he pressed his thumb hard into it causing it to bleed and seep from the bandages.

"You'd throw your lot in with him!" Svengali seething state of rage and his upper lip quivering in anger. Annie continued to try and pull his hand free from her shoulder but to no avail. She could barely understand what he was saying for she was in great agony. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and moaned through clenched teeth. "Angamar made the same mistake and that is why he died, Linilwe." He said in a calmer tone. "You're not an Altmer. Neither was your father. You're too soft hearted to of my kind."

Svengali was too experienced and world wary to think that the expression of history repeating itself was more than just an expression. In his experience, life was an endless cycle of countless other endless cycles that continued to spin on and on with little variation. The only difference was the size of these cycles. Some were larger and more complex but each and every other living individual was themselves a cycle of repeated actions. Angamar did not align himself the way that he should have and he died because of it and now one of his children are going to face the same fate as he.

He removed his hand from her shoulder and he was not gentle about it and when his thumb was free from the wound she rolled over to her side and huddled up while holding her shoulder. Her shoulders trembled and Svengali heard the sad, pitiful and heart breaking sounds of her hitched, broken breathing, and rough sniffles of her crying.

"Sir." Lindel spoke. "What do we do with him?" He gestured to Vilkas.

Svengali looked at Vilkas who was heaving with every breath and held a hopeless expression on his face. Svengali turned to Lindel and said, "Leave him. If they're going to die; best to let them die in each other's company." He walked away and his men closed and locked the cell door leaving behind a tormented Annie and a fragile Vilkas.

"Lindel!" Svengali said marching in a furious pace down the corridor.

Lindel was following pace behind him and said, "Yes sir"

"As of this moment I want you and two others to go to the embassy and inform First Emissary of what happened. We need to get the bodies back to Summerset and we need to find replacements as soon as possible." They entered into a room that had been massively eaten with cobwebs and wet moss. Old storage crates sat forgotten against the walls where rats hid from the elves marching across the corridor and into the next room.

It was a room they used mostly for storage. The contents of the crates therein where the belongings of all prisoners that they ever had. Svengali never went into this room until such occasions came about such as when he needed extra funds.

A chest was sat on top one of the crates and Svengali produced the key to open it. Inside was Vilkas's armour and the rest of Annie's robes. Their weapons were being kept in separate storage compartments for they would not fit in this chest; except of course for Annie's sword. They set the sword inside then locked the chest back up before Svengali said, "Return to your regular duties. And Lindel, get to the embassy as quick as you can."

"Justiciar! Are you sure I can't go by myself? Leaving you with such minimal staff is not very optimal. Wouldn't it be…"

"This is not matter of debate Lindel." Interrupted Svengali. "I appreciate your concern but should anything happen in the mean time I promise it will not be without difficulty."

They all nodded and they dispersed to attend to their duties. Those of whom did not die from Annie's attack would be attended too to the best of what remained of them, but none were doctors or healers. Some were not going to make it and Svengali was prepared for this eventuality. Just as he was prepared for anything that this cruel and indifferent world could throw at him.

Annie was still laying on the bed holding onto her pained shoulder staring only at the wall. She had calmed down some time ago and was deathly quiet. Vilkas was sitting next to her, his back feeling like it was fire and he tilted his head up and closed his eyes to help him ignore the pain and to help him think. He looked at Annie and took notice of her abstracted expression and how her eyelids were drawn low over her red rimmed eyes. It was odd but; for the first time since Vilkas had known her he felt a surge of pity for her despite how he believed that she would kill him to win over her freedom.

Now he was faced with a problem that would tax his sagacity to the utmost and that was how he and Annie were going to escape. He was aware that it was most likely fantastical thinking that lead him to believe that escape would be possible since neither he or Annie had their equipment and they were both in poor condition; Annie more so than he. He could withstand the pain that assailed his back but Annie seemed as if she had lost all since of urgency.

He did not like to see her in this way. Never before had he seen her in so black a depression even in her grayest moods.

"Hey." He said delicately while laying his hand atop her thigh and gently shaking her leg to get her attention. "Perhaps we should be seeking a method of escape, yes?"

"I'm working on it." Replied Annie irritably and Vilkas retracted his arm and apologetically raised both hands in the air. "I've been thinking of a way since I was able to collect myself."

"Couldn't you use magic too - I don't know – Hypnotize one of them?" He asked ignorantly.

Annie chuckled. "My field of magic doesn't work like that. I have to make them perceive a different reality than the one that is presented to them. I have to convince them of the difference. But, enough of that, let's not err to far or else we may never get out of here." She didn't tell him that she had to use more magika than normal against the Thalmor since Atlmer have a natural adherence thus more potent magic was required.

Stretching her arm out, Annie reached out for Vilkas to help her up. He took her hand and pulled gently so as to ensure she would be in as little pain as possible. She winced but sat there with her eyes closed and waited for the pain to subside before she stood up.

She paced in small steps around the room ensuring that every detail was seen and branded into her mind. Vilkas didn't catch in great detail what all she was saying for she was speaking quickly as well as quietly but rather he heard just random words such a moss, moisture, salt and other choice words. Annie went to the cell door and ran her hand over the metal bars feeling the crusty, metal grind and chip away beneath her touch. Annie pinched her fingers together and rubbed them together feeling grains between her tips. She held her fingers to her nose and sniffed her finger tips her then tasted them by giving them a little lick. She smacked her lips together and tasted the salt that covered the iron door.

Leaning against the door; Annie thought for a minute in silence before she broke out into an all new state of delight and chuckled under her breath in an almost manic fashion before recovering her self-possession in an instant (the speed of Annie's switch of emotions gave Vilkas a slight concern about her mental state) and said, "Vilkas, come over here and tell me what you see." She pointed to what she wanted him to specifically look at. "And do not disappoint me."

Vilkas did as he was bid. He leaned over and observed what Annie had pointed it. He pinched his chin between his thumb and index finger and carefully scrutinized every detail of the item that Annie hinted was significant.

"Well…" Vilkas said standing up straight. He set his hand against his hip and scratched his head. "It's a rusty hinge."

"EXACTLY!" Annie ejaculated with excitement. "Very good Vilkas! I could kiss you for noticing that it is not just a hinge; but a rusty hinge. Both being just so; and what does rust do to metal?"

"It…" Vilkas's eyes opened wide when the sudden epiphany of what Annie was getting at manifested in his mind. "eats away at it." He finished his sentence with pause in between each word and Annie nodded with a wide smile. Vilkas stole his gaze to the bed behind them that Svengali had at this point, naively placed in the cell with them.

"Alright, so Vilkas, I am going to need to be my muscle here. I would help you but the pain in my shoulder makes physical labour impossible. But, I will help with this." Annie motioned for him to stand on one end of the bed while she stood on the other. She placed her hand on the frame and Vilkas did the same from his end where they began to rock it back and forth feeling the frame gradually loosen with each push.

The bed became very loose until with one more push from Vilkas, the bed fell apart as it collapsed in on itself, almost taking Annie with it, but she was quick to compose herself and move out of the way. Vilkas took hold of one of the longer frame boards and got a feel for its weight, confident that it would do the job and he smirked.

"Now Vilkas, We're going to have to do this quickly so try to get both hinges within three strikes and I beg be careful. The last thing I need right now is a head injury."

Vilkas lifted the board with both hands, he lifted himself up on his toes and felt tension build in his torso and arms. He tightened his grip as much as he could and them he allowed himself to drop and he thrust the piece of wood at the hinge, letting all the tension in his torso and arms release as he struck the first hinge where it shattered upon impact. Annie shielding her face with her arm as Vilkas went at the hinges and cringed slightly when the heavy iron door crashed to the floor with loud clanks as metal hit stone that echoed through the corridor.

"Come on!" Vilkas exclaimed. "I know where to go from here!" He grabbed Annie's wrist and teid to pull her along but she pulled back. He turned around, gave her a confused stare and said, "What's wrong?"

"My sword Vilkas. I want to get back." She had a sudden saddened look on her face. "It's very important to me."

Vilkas took a deep breath and said, "It was your fathers wasn't it?" Annie didn't answer and instead looked at him with a look of pleading but he shook his head. "Look, I'm only picking up bits and pieces here Annie but we do not have the luxury of skulking around here. We need to leave and get back to Jorrvaskr."

"But Vilkas." She begged.

"Annie. I know losing family is hard but we need to move."

"Oh I do not think you guys will be going anywhere." A voice said from behind Annie. They turned their attention o the voice and saw Svengali standing there with a discontented look of anger upon his features. The last two of his able bodies men were standing behind him and in Svengali's hand was Annie sword. The very item that Annie wanted back.

He and his men had heard the collapse if the door and they all rushed as fast as they could to the source and none were pleased with what they had found.

Annie took a step, held out her hand and said, "Give me that sword, Svengali," in a tone that was building in frustration.

"No." He replied and stepped closer. "You two just don't know what too quit! It would have been easier for you to die in your cell. I didn't want to kill you like this Linilwe. But you have left me no choice.

"SVENGALI, I SWEAR I'LL…" Annie stopped and her eyes suddenly went wide. Vilkas had smelt these creatures coming while Svengali kept and did not say anything for it was the only way now that they would not be followed. Behind Svengali's men were slimy, lanky figures that were slowly and quietly crawling behind them. Their ears were long, their hands gangling and their teeth uncomfortably compact and jagged.

One of Svengali's men fell foward onto his belly and was pulled back. Svengali and his trooper turned and saw a horde of Falmer tearing their man apart and feasting upon his body.

"FALMER!" Svengali shouted.

Five the creatures crawling towards him while four more scaled the ceiling and walls. Annie quickly ran for Svengali, grabbing her sword while Vilkas pushed the other into the wall with his shoulder and he collided into it with a huge thud causing the wind to be knocked out of him. Svengali held onto it and tried to pull it back but Annie kicked him against the chest and pushed him away where he let go of the sword and he fell into the horde of monstrous snow elves. He stood back up and looked in all directions and the slowly closed in on him. He looked at Annie and said, "This will not be the end of me. DO YOU HEAR ME LINILWE!"

Vilkas grabbed her wrist and shouted, "COME ON WE NEED TO GO, NOW!" And they ran; Vilkas keeping a tight grip around Annie's wrist. He lead them down the prison cells and they took a right where a long stairwell was that bore no light save for small glimmer of candle light at the top.

Together they ran up the sdakr and cold stair well with the Falmer giving chase behind them. The blood curdling sounds of wheezing grunts and roars were close behind them and they ran faster, the sounds of the snapping of their boots of their bare feet on stone made the more pronounced as they neared the top. The candle light was no longer a glimmer as they got closer and closer to freedom and it became more of beckon of light beckoning for them.

Fur coats hung on the walls beside the door and they both quickly grabbed one before Vilkas shoved his shoulder in the door, opening up to the refreshing feel of the cold Skyrim air. When Annie stepped out Vilkas slammed the door but The Falmer managed to reach their arms out and the pushed, keeping Vilkas from being able to close it.

Annie drew her weapon and with all the strength she could gather in her one good arm, swung her balde downward. The blade cut through several of the pale, skinny limbs and they all fell to the ground in thuds. Blood gushed onto the walls and the door and ground. The Falmer shrieked loud, ear piercing squeals before they retreated into the keep allowing Vilkas to close the door and lodge it shut with a piece of wood stuck between the door handle and the ground.

They both breathed heavily. Vilkas was hunched over with his hands on his knees while Annie fell back and gazed at the early morning sky. Though it was cold she relished the feeling of the freezing snow on her back for it reminded her that she was still alive. She closed her eyes and smiled.

Vilkas knelt next to her and held out his hand. "The Divines certainly seemed to favor us this time." Said he.

Annie took his hand he helped her up. "The Divines had nothing to do with it, Vilkas." She said. She looked back up the sky and said, "Look at that." Vilkas looked up with her and they both gazed at the little pink clouds floating high above them as the red rim of the sun pushed itself over the cloud – bank over the horizon passed the ocean. "Simply beautiful, isn't it."

Vilkas smirked. "Come on, let's go. We can an enjoy a sunrise together when we get back to Whiterun." Together they found the horses the Thalmor kept in their stables and together they rode their ways back to Whiterun both letting the event's at Northwatch Keep become memories to a nightmare that neither of the could have ever expected to have. But, as Annie knew fully well, that such was the rules of life itself.

* * *

Deus Ex Machina anyone? Don't worry I have an explanation for this but it will be revealed later. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and now we can settle down from Annie's story a bit and focus on The Companions a bit more after I get a few chapters out here to expand some of what happened here and some more of Sigmund and Vancalmo. Again do not worry these chapters will still be important and very relevant to the over all plot. So stay tuned.

I'm going to take a break from writing for a few days so that my friend and I can discuss the content of the next few chapters and then I will try to get back to it by mid this week.

Cheers.


	11. Announcement

Okay, so normally I am very opposed to this but, seeing as how has yet to implement a convenient method at which writers can update their readers all at once this is the best I can think of.

As what may have become apparent given my long absence from this, I feel that in order to be fair to all of you who have followed and enjoyed this story in the brief time I and my friend had been working on it I have to announce that this story has been put on hold for the foreseeable future. This is not to suggest that we had become bored of it or that we had grown bitter towards it. Quite the opposite in fact. We loved the two characters that we implanted in the story I.E. Annie and Sigmund and we had a lot of fun working with these characters and the in game characters as well and both my friend and I look back at this story in fondness but there are things that came up that and as a result we have not been able to keep this project in our line of priorities.

To explain what I mean is that, either in annotations that I have left at the start and end of every chapter or on my homepage, I have alluded to my own personal writings and it is my personal writings that had suddenly surfaced above both my and my friends priority list.

How this came about is partly due to Soulless because both he and I had so many things we were going to include in this story thematically, symbolically, and metaphorically and we knew exactly how it was that we were going to this. There was a specific philosophical belief that my friend and I adhere too greatly. So greatly that it filters the way in which we see the world and it makes itself known in our writings.

To get to the point; there is a story I have been working on for a few years know that has only very recently made it to the actual writing phase and it is going to share the same philosophy that my friend and I were putting into Soulless. Before it was nothing more than a few characters and piles among piles of pre-writes. But, now that the story in which I am referring to has made to this point, I can not for the time being see myself dedicating any more time to Soulless. As much as I would to otherwise.

I know this may be unfair to all of you who have come to enjoy this story and I am sorry that ten chapters is all that this story is going to see. I almost consider Soulless to be the prototype to the story I am currently trying to write. Philosophically speaking that is.

I hope you all will understand as it is a dream of mine to become a professional writer if only to create a story that I have put effort into and contribute something to culture.

To those of you who may still be interested in reading my work, I will be posting the story I am currently working on on Wattpad.

If you are interested, just go to Wattpad and search for Nyralathotep.

Doing that will show a profile on the right side of the screen under the name of Nyralathotep.

I hope to see you all there and I hope that those of you who find me on Wattpad will enjoy what I will be posting there.

Cheers.


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